"How do you feel?" she asked, directing his question back at him. Michael turned onto his side to face her. His gaze drifted to her lips and he reached over to touch them briefly before turning his eyes back up to meet hers.

"You know I've always wanted more children, Nikita," he told her softly. "I've been waiting for you." Nikita was silent and Michael reached for her free hand and held it securely in his. "I know you told me after Chantel was born that you were afraid you wouldn't be a good mother. But surely by now you know that your fears have been unfounded. You're an excellent mother, Nikita. Anyone who sees you with Chantel can see how much you love her and how much she loves you."

Nikita moved her head down on the pillow, then leaned in so that their lips almost touched, and she closed her eyes briefly. "I do love her," she said, her eyes gazing into his. "I love her so very much. It’s incredible this feeling that rushes through me each time I feel her arms about me, or hear her call me 'mommy'." Nikita smiled gently. "It’s like that for you too, isn't it?"

"Yes." Michael answered, returning her smile as he caressed her fingers.

Nikita's eyes flickered back and forth, her love for Michael showing clearly in her eyes. "It’s an incredible feeling," she said quietly. "And I want to feel it again. And again. And again."

Michael's eyes widened and his fingers tightened their hold on Nikita's hand. "Are you saying --"

Nikita nodded, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. "Yes, Michael. I want more children. I want lots, lots, more." Then she laughed as Michael pulled her up on top of him and began showering her with kisses.

"Yes, Nikita," he said between kisses. "Let’s have lots more. Maybe eight more."

"Or two or three," she chuckled, as Michael rolled her onto her back and smiled down at her.

"Deal," he said, his green eyes glimmering with the love he felt for her. And then he began to torment her all over again....

************

Michael lay on his back staring up at the ceiling as Nikita lay beside him, her body curled around his. Her chin rested lightly against the top of his shoulder and she had one arm across his chest.

"Michael?"

"Hmm?"

Nikita blinked slowly, her body feeling wonderfully sated and relaxed. She wanted to sleep but there was something pressing on her mind that she wanted to discuss with Michael while the time was right.

"Can I ask you something very personal?"

He turned slightly, his gaze meeting hers. "Of course you can," he replied quietly. "You're my wife."

She hesitated, a line forming between her brows as she frowned. "Even if it has to do with your first wife?"

Michael's eyes searched Nikita's and he wondered what she was getting at. "What do you want to know?"

Nikita sat up, pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. Her hair, mussed from their love-making, cascaded down her back in long lightly tangled strands. Michael reached over and fingered the silken ends, then moved his fingers to trace down her spine as he waited for her question.

"You never talk about her or your son," Nikita said in a low voice. She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes gently inquiring. "Why is that?"

Michael's fingers stilled in their caress and his eyes looked off to the side. He hadn't expected Nikita to ask about Elena and Adam. Their images came to his mind and he felt the faint dull aching that was often triggered by thoughts about them. His life with them seemed a lifetime ago. Michael felt the bed shift and turned to see that Nikita had turned to face away from him again.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she was saying, her voice suspiciously husky. "I shouldn't have asked."

Michael sat up, moving close to Nikita, and brushed her hair back so that he could see her face clearly. "Kita," he whispered, placing his hand under her chin and turning her face toward him. Her eyes were bright and the lower lashes of her eyes were moist. Michael stroked his thumb gently across her cheekbone, then leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

"What do you want to know about them?" he asked, as he looked into her eyes.

Nikita took hold of his hand and tucked it against her heart. "What was she like?" she asked softly.

Michael drew a deep breath and released it slowly. "She was smart," he said quietly. "Kind and beautiful. Her family owned a mining company that I did freelance work for once. That was how I met her."

"And you loved her very much."

"Yes," Michael sighed. "I did." He watched as Nikita's lashes lowered and he reached out again to tilt her head up, gazing into her eyes. "When... when Elena and Adam died, I wanted to die too. For a while I thought I was. I couldn't eat. Everywhere I went, everything I saw, all reminded me of them. I told you this before, remember? Before we were married?"

"Yes."

Michael stroked her chin. "I didn't think I could ever love that way again. Or that I could feel such joy again as I did when I held Adam in my arms. But I've found that I can and I have with you, Nikita." His eyes bore into hers. "I love you with all of my heart. You took away the darkness that was inside of me for so long and filled it with light. You made me see the beauty in the sunrise again. Made me believe in life again. And when Chantel was born --" Michael swallowed as his eyes misted over. "The endless ache I felt for my son became more bearable. It’s still there, this dull pain deep inside, but it no longer consumes my every thought and action."

"Oh Michael," Nikita sighed as she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I love you too. That's why I wanted to ask you about them." She pulled back a little and looked into his eyes. "We've talked about having other children, but if it’s alright with you, I want Chantel to know about Adam and about Elena. We don't have to tell her right away but when the time is right, I'd like for her to know."

Michael blinked, his eyes filling with tears. "Are you sure, Nikita?"

Nikita looked at him with tenderness as she pulled him back in close and held him tightly. "Yes, my love. I'm very sure." And she felt Michael's hot tears fall silently onto her shoulder.

************

The days grew longer as May turned to June and June into July. And with the passage of spring came the sizzling summer heat. Nikita adjusted the baseball cap she wore and wiped her brow as she hung the second to last sheet up on the line to dry. There wasn't a cloud in the blue sky for as far as the eye could see. Thankfully there was a breeze which made the day a little more bearable. She could hear the faint hum of Grandma Adrian's air conditioner drifting towards her from around the corner. Adrian had scoffed at her and Michael when they had the unit installed in her studio saying, "I was born and raised in this heat. What do I need one of those contraptions for?" But as the summer wore on, bringing with it a record high heat wave into the area, Nikita was grateful that she and Michael had insisted that the air conditioner be installed. They also installed central air conditioning in the main house. That was where Chantel was, sitting on the living room floor surrounded by her toys, watching Sesame Street. After lunch Michael had gone over to Hal Johnston's ranch to look over a foal Hal was selling. He was thinking of buying it for Chantel.

The corner of Nikita's mouth curved upward as she bent to pick up the plastic laundry basket and made her way toward the house. That husband of hers would spoil Chantel rotten if she didn't step in and stop him from doing so. And Chantel knew exactly how to play her father too. A few little kisses and batting of her lashes and Michael was ready to buy her the moon. But Nikita had to admit, she loved him fiercely for being such an attentive and adoring father. He was practically walking on air ever since they agreed to try and get pregnant again.

Michael had grown up in a very loving home back in Lyons, France. His parents had passed on several years ago but he still had an older sister, Madeline, who was married to a retired Air Force general and living in Paris. Madeline called often and sent adorable little outfits and presents for Chantel. It was Madeline who had sent Esmerelda, the French doll that Chantel dragged everywhere she went.

"Madeline, please," Nikita had protested during one of their phone conversations, "You're just as bad as Michael."

Madeline had laughed. "I know. And I'm sorry, Nikita. But please, indulge me in this. I've always wanted a little girl but, as you know, Paul and I were blessed with five rambunctious rascally sons instead. I love them to pieces, especially now that they're all past the age where I have to constantly watch them, but I just adore being able to shop for girls clothing and toys for a change." Madeline had sighed wistfully making Nikita laugh.

Nikita set the empty basket down next to the steps then opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. She heaved a welcome sigh of relief as cool air enveloped her. Within seconds she could feel her body temperature begin to return to normal.

"Chantel?"

Nikita strolled to the living room and looked in on her. Chantel was on her back, her feet drawn up, and watching TV still. Moonbeam was about a yard away, stretched out on his side, sleeping. Nikita made her way toward Chantel, picking up stuffed animals, books, and dolls on her way. "Chantel it’s time for your nap, sweetie."

"I'm not tired, Mommy."

"That's what you always say. Now come on --" Nikita dumped her armload of toys onto the couch and held her hand out to Chantel. "- let’s go."

Chantel stood reluctantly and reached for her cat who woke with a start. "Come on, Moonbeam."

"Chantel leave the cat alone," Nikita said as Moonbeam slipped from Chantel's grasp and scampered off to hide beneath the couch.

"But he has to take his nap," Chantel said as she walked over to her mother.

"He was taking his nap until you woke him," Nikita answered. Hand in hand they made their way over to the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later Nikita entered her own bedroom and headed for the bed. Being out in the sun had worn her out and she was feeling a need for a nap herself. She removed her socks and shoes, climbed on top of the cool sheets, and fell asleep. She woke some time later to the familiar feel of Michael's thumb caressing her brow. Her eyes opened slowly to see him sitting on beside her, leaning over her.

"Hi."

Nikita smiled lazily. "Hi. What time is it?"

"Past four."

"What?!" She started to sit up but Michael restrained her gently with a firm hand to her shoulder. "Chantel..."

"Chantel's over at grandma's."

"My laundry..."

"I already brought it in. Folded and put them away."

Nikita's brow quirked. "Dinner?"

"Adrian and Chantel are going to order pizza."

"Pizza?" Nikita wrinkled her nose in distaste and Michael's smile broadened as he leaned down and kissed her slowly. When he tried to pull away Nikita wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her. "More," she murmured, and Michael laughed softly against her lips. His hand slipped down, lifting the edge of the ribbed tank top she wore, and he slipped his fingers inside. He touched her breasts, cupping them gently and stroking his thumb over their sensitive peaks.

"Did you get enough rest?" he asked, looking into her eyes as he continued to caress her.

"Mmm," Nikita grunted, her eyes closing in pleasure. "I meant to lie down just for a few minutes but I guess I was more tired then I thought. Must have been the sun."

Michael smiled as his hand moved down. He shifted, turning to unbutton the top of her shorts and he opened her zipper part way. Then he lay down next to her, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his head on the palm of his hand. With his other hand he reached over and began to gently massage Nikita's lower stomach as she sighed and moved her head closer to him.

"That feels good," she said, realizing that her stomach had been feeling a little queasy, especially after Michael mentioned pizza. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she gazed up at Michael. He met her gaze with a look of such love, it caused her to tremble. "Michael...," she whispered, her eyes beginning to light up. "Do you think?"

In answer Michael sat up. He lifted her shirt a little, then bent over and tenderly began to kiss her lower stomach.

************

Nikita's eyes misted as she reached down and curled her fingers into Michael's hair. His mouth was warm and soft as he trailed kisses across her lower belly.

"I hope you're right, Michael."

His lips paused in their sensual assault as Michael looked up at her with confidence radiating from his green eyes. "I am." He moved to kneel over her. "All the signs are there, my love." Then he lowered his head and nuzzled her just below her ear. "You're pregnant, Nikita."

Nikita turned, capturing Michael's lips with her own as her arms slipped around his neck and she pulled him down. She laughed with pleasure as Michael shifted and she felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her lower body. Nikita brushed her fingers through his hair then held his face between her hands as she gazed deeply into his eyes.

"I love you," she said quietly.

A joyous smile lit Michael's face, as he laughed and rolled to the side and pulled Nikita over on top of him.

*

Nikita shut the car door and turned at the sound of the screen door slamming and little feet running across the porch.

"Mommy!"

"Hey, my baby!" Nikita opened her arms to receive her overall-clad, pig-tailed daughter with a hug. After a quick kiss on both cheeks, then once on the lips, Nikita set her down on the ground. "Where's Grandma?"

Chantel shrugged as she grasped Nikita's hand and pulled her toward the house. "She left with some people."

"So Daddy's home with you?"

"Uh-huh."

Nikita followed Chantel indoors and closed the door behind her. Her eyes met Michael's as he stood in front of the stove stirring a pot. She smiled, releasing Chantel's hand and made her way over to embrace Michael from behind.

"How'd it go?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. Nikita sighed and rubbed her cheek against the back of his shoulder.

"Five and a half weeks."

She tilted her head up and watched as Michael's eyes lit up. He let go of the spoon he held, turned, and hugged her. A smile curved his lips. "I knew it," he said, as his right hand slipped between them to caress her stomach. He pulled back a little and searched her eyes. "Are you happy?" he asked, needing to know that Nikita wanted this baby as much as he did.

"Very," she answered, as she wrapped her arms around Michael and smiled back at him.

"Is the food ready yet?" Chantel called from the table. "I'm hungry."

Michael and Nikita pulled apart, exchanging amused looks before Michael turned back to the stove and Nikita walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

As Chantel ate, Michael pulled Nikita to the far side of the kitchen. "There's something I need to tell you," he said. The seriousness of his tone caught Nikita's attention. She stepped closer and looked up into his eyes.

"What is it?"

Michael took her hands in his, a gesture that Nikita found more nerve-wracking than comforting. "Michael?"

"It’s nothing bad, Nikita."

She visibly relaxed, then waited for him to elaborate.

"Adrian received unexpected guests this morning while you were gone."

Nikita raised her brows. "Guests? Who?"

Michael paused, hesitant about what he was about to reveal, then said quietly. "Sharon."

************

"What!" Nikita's brows furrowed as she stared, wide-eyed, at Michael.

"Relax, Nikita."

"Relax?" Nikita clamped her lips together and turned to look over at Chantel who was still eating, oblivious to their conversation. She turned back then and faced Michael. A deep frown marred her face as she directed in a lowered voice, "Tell me."

"There's not much too tell," Michael said softly. He ran his hands up and down her arms in an effort to soothe Nikita's wrangled nerves. "They showed up shortly --"

"They?"

"Daniel and Kimberly are with her."

"Oh this is great!" Nikita muttered. She began to pace back and forth with one hand on her hip while she ran the other impatiently through her hair. Then she stopped and faced Michael again. "Where are they now?"

"Adrian took them over to see your grandfather's grave. Then they're going into town to check into a hotel."

Nikita sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Did Grandma know they were coming?"

"I don't think so. She was just as surprised as you are now."

Nikita's expression hardened as the turned to stare out the window. "So my mother just shows up, unannounced, and expects us to just welcome her back?"

Michael remained silent and after a minute, Nikita moved toward him, burying her face in his shoulder. Michael took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, as he folded his arms about her. She was shaking. He tightened his hold on her and pressed his lips to her temple. Across the room Chantel pushed her chair back and wiped her mouth across her sleeve. "I'm finished," she announced, then climbed down. "Thank you for the food, Daddy," she called, then disappeared through the door to the living room.

Nikita pulled back and looked up at Michael. "Did... does Chantel know?"

Michael shook his head. "No. She doesn't know that it was your mother."

"But she saw her?"

"Yes," Michael replied. "And Sharon saw her." Nikita swallowed and stared expectantly at Michael. "She cried," Michael said softly.

Nikita looked as if she were about to cry also as she turned and walked over to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. Her mother was here. The thought made her dizzy and she stood suddenly and rushed off to the bathroom. Michael followed and crouched down behind her as she bent over the toilet. He gathered her hair and held it back from her face with one hand, and gently rubbed her back with the other. Afterwards he helped her to the sink and waited till she was done washing. Then he turned her around to face him. Silently he dried her face with a towel, then pulled her into his arms.

"Let me fix you some lunch."

"I don't think I can keep anything down right now, Michael."

"You have to try and eat something."

Nikita shook her head. "Maybe later. I just want to lay down. Can you watch Chantel?"

Michael sighed. "Of course." He watched Nikita turn and head toward the stairs. She was withdrawing, as was her custom whenever she needed time to think. There wasn't anything more he could do other then to wait and see how things would play out when Nikita would come face to face with her mother.

************

Nikita woke slowly and stared up at the ceiling for several minutes. Glancing at her watch she saw that it was almost 3 o'clock. She stood, walked to the door, and opened it just a crack. The house was quiet. Closing the door she went over to the window that looked over the driveway. Michael was washing the Explorer. His truck was parked on the side and Chantel, dressed in her bathing suit, was hosing it down. Actually, she was hosing herself down more than she was the truck. To Nikita's relief no other car was in sight.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the bathroom, washed her face, and brushed her hair before heading downstairs. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and so she stopped off first at the stove and scooped some of the soup Michael had made into a bowl, then set it on a tray. She got some crackers to eat with the soup, poured herself a glass of lemonade, then carried her tray out to the porch where she intended to eat while watching Michael and Chantel. Nikita nearly dropped her tray when she ran into a young man standing outside on the porch. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him. The young man stared back, equally surprised. He had sandy colored hair and cornflower blue eyes that were open and friendly. Khaki shorts and a polo shirt revealed arms and legs that were tanned a warm honey color.

"Hi."

"Hi," Nikita answered, then immediately looked toward Michael. He was on the other side of the car, though, hidden from view.

"Here --" the young man reached for the tray Nikita was carrying. "Let me take that for you." Nikita, still surprised, relinquished the tray and watched as the young man set it down next to the bench by the wall. He took a step back, then smiled shyly at her and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Chantel's voice.

"Mommy!" Chantel called out to Nikita, her voice full of excitement as she waved the waterhose about, spurting water everywhere.

"Chantel!" Michael appeared from behind the car, his hair wet and t-shirt splotched with big water spots.

Chantel wrinkled her nose as she grinned at her father. "Sorry, Daddy," she giggled.

Nikita heard the young man beside her laugh and she turned her attention back to him. He looked at her and smiled broadly. "You have a beautiful daughter."

The beginnings of a smile formed on Nikita's face. "Don't let Chantel fool you. She can be a real brat when she wants to be."

The young man smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Daniel."

Nikita hesitated a moment, then placed her hand in his. "Nikita." She motioned to the bench and Daniel sat down, scooting over to make room for her. Out by the car, Michael watched the tentative exchange between brother and sister, then relaxed as he saw them sit down.

"So you're Sharon's son." Nikita said, with curiosity.

"That's me." Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, then turned his head to look at Nikita. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you after all these years."

"Years?" Nikita's brow shot up. "How long have you known about me?"

"Since I was a kid," Daniel replied. "Mom's got pictures of you but they're all of you when you were a baby."

Nikita sat back in quiet shock. All this time she had known nothing of Sharon's other kids, but they had known about her. The revelation was startling and unexpected. "Do you mind if I ask what your mother told you about me?" she asked.

"No," Daniel said, shaking his head. "She told us you were our sister and that she had had to leave you here when you were young. We always figured there was more to the story but Mom would always cry whenever she started speaking of you or Grandma and Grandpa. After a while, we just stopped asking. Then Jenna became engaged and she asked Mom if she would invite you and Grandma and Grandpa to the wedding."

Nikita shifted uncomfortably.

"It’s alright, Nikita," Daniel said with a little smile. "Jenna understood why you couldn't make it to the wedding. I'm sure it was a shock for you to find out about us." Daniel shrugged again as he sat up and looked out to where Chantel was now seated on top of Michael's shoulders, shooting the car down. "Having Grandma out there, and seeing Mom cry like that --" Daniel was silent for a moment, then he said, "Well... it gave us kids a little bit of an idea of the way things were between her and her parents... and you."

************

"What do you mean?" Nikita asked, turning to look at Daniel. The young man averted his gaze as a frown creased his forehead. He stood suddenly, shoved his hands into his pockets, and nodded toward her tray.

"Your food's getting cold. I'll let you eat in peace." His eyes met Nikita's and his mouth formed an apologetic smile. "I tend to talk too much sometimes. That's what Jenna and Kimber are always telling me."

"Where are you going?"

"I thought I might take a walk. Look around a little. It’s a great place you have here. A lot different from the city, that's for sure," Daniel said.

Nikita tilted her head to the side. "Would you like some company?"

Daniel's eyes lit up as he flashed her a boyish grin. "Sure!"

Nikita laughed softly at the enthusiasm in Daniel's voice. "Alright. I'll tell you what. Have some lunch with me and then afterwards I'll show you around."

"Thanks. I've already had lunch," Daniel said, "but I'll take you up on that tour when you're done." He sat back down and began chatting again, this time asking questions about life on the farm and comparing it to life in the city. He told Nikita of the tiny apartment he and his sisters grew up in as their mother worked to support them.

"And what about your father?" Nikita asked, between spoonfuls of soup. "I haven't heard much about him."

"My father?" Daniel laughed briefly and he stared out over the land. "He left before I was born. Mom said he wasn't ready to face the responsibility of raising three kids. We never heard from him again."

Nikita grew silent but Daniel didn't seem to notice. He was lost in his own thoughts and there was a look in his eyes that Nikita recognized. She had never known who her father was either. She had wondered about it often enough; who was he? Did he even know he had a daughter? Would he even care? Nikita lowered her eyes and finished the last of her soup as she shoved her thoughts aside. It did no good to bring up those old questions, she decided. Better to let bygones be bygones.

"You must have loved growing up here," Daniel said, as he eyed the land appreciatively. "There's so much space and freedom." Nikita nodded, then put her spoon down, no longer feeling very hungry.

"It had its advantages," she commented, then stood. "Let me take these in and then I'll take you around."

"Here," Daniel said, moving forward to take the tray from Nikita. "I'll help you." He followed her inside and began to clear the dishes into the sink. The door opened again and Chantel stepped inside. Water dripped down her legs onto the floor as she stood shivering.

"Chantel!" Nikita rushed over and ushered her back outside.

"I'm cold," Chantel said, her lips trembling. Goosebumps formed all along her arms and legs.

"I know, sweetheart." Nikita grabbed her towel, which Michael had left hanging on the porch railing, and she began to rub Chantel dry. "Did you have fun washing the car with Daddy?" she asked, and Chantel nodded. She stood still as her mother finished drying her off, then wrapped the towel about her.

"Mommy, who is that man?"

Nikita's hands stilled as she met her daughter's inquiring eyes. "You mean Daniel?"

Chantel nodded. "Daddy says that he's someone very special to you. Is that true?"

Nikita hesitated, then looked up to see Michael standing at the bottom step. He stood silently, his eyes conveying to Nikita that it was her call whether she told Chantel the true nature of her relationship with Daniel.

"Mommy?" Clear blue eyes, so very much like her own, stared at her expectantly. Nikita placed her hands on either side of Chantel's cheeks and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Yes, my darling. Daniel is someone special." She paused as the door opened behind her and Daniel stepped out onto the porch. He smiled, unaware that he was the subject of the conversation between mother and daughter. Nikita looked over at Michael again, uncertainty in her eyes. They stared at each other for several seconds, then Nikita stood and took Chantel's hand and brought her round to face Daniel. She looked from Chantel to Daniel, then back again. Then she said, "Chantel, this is your Uncle Daniel."

************

Chantel looked from her mother over to Daniel. Then she turned back to her mother. "Like Uncle Paul?"

"That's right." Nikita said, her hand reaching out to finger her daughter's damp hair. "Uncle Paul is married to Daddy's sister, Aunty Madeline. Daniel, though, is your uncle from my side of the family. He's my little brother."

"Oh." Chantel stared at Daniel for a moment then turned back to her mother. "You never said you had a brother."

Nikita glanced over at Daniel who was staring at her, then looked back down at Chantel. "Well I'm telling you now," she said with a smile.

"What about those ladies that came with him? The ones that went with Grandma Adrian in the car?"

Nikita crouched down again beside Chantel and looked into her eyes. "One of them is my sister. Her name is Aunty Kimberly. But the other one," Nikita paused and took a deep breath. "Remember awhile ago I told you I have a mother and that it’s not Grandma Adrian?"

Chantel nodded. "The lady in the pictures."

"Yes. That's the one, sweetie. Well... the other lady that came with Uncle Daniel today is the lady that was in those pictures. That's Uncle Daniel's and Aunty Kimberly's mother. She's also my mother, and your grandmother."

Chantel took a moment to consider this bit of information, then frowned. "The one that made you sad?" she asked. Nikita took a deep breath and blinked several times. Chantel, who was watching her carefully, suddenly burrowed herself into Nikita's arms. "I don't like her. Make her go away," she mumbled, as she buried her face against her mother's shoulder.

"Chantel," Nikita held her for a minute, then gently pried her away and looked into her daughter's stubbornly determined face. "Remember what I told you about being angry? And about not liking people?" she asked quietly. Chantel nodded reluctantly, then she stuck her hand out from beneath her towel and touched her mother's cheek.

"Is she going to make you cry?" Chantel asked.

Nikita smiled at her, captured her hand and pressed it to her lips. "Darling, sometimes people cry when they're very sad. And sometimes people cry when they're very happy. If you see mommy crying today, I want you to know it’s not because I'm sad but because I'm happy. Inside here --" Nikita pointed to her heart. "Okay?"

Chantel searched her mother's face. "Promise?"

Nikita smiled at her. "I promise, my love."

Chantel cast another look in Daniel's direction, before facing her mother again. "Okay."

Nikita hugged her daughter tight. "I love you, Chantel. I love you so very much." Chantel smiled, then giggled as Nikita began showering her with kisses, and she hugged her mother back.

Michael climbed the short flight of steps leading up to the porch and stood behind Nikita. His hand slid over her lower back, pulling her slightly toward him, as he reached for Chantel with his other hand. "Time for your bath and nap," he said. Chantel turned her blue eyes on him.

"I already took a bath with the hose," she argued.

"Oh no you don't," Michael said, trying not to smile. "You need to go take a real bath with soap and shampoo."

"Can I take my toys in the tub with me?"

"No, sweetheart."

"Just one. Please?"

Michael sighed. "All right. One toy." Chantel squealed with laughter and ran toward the door, as Nikita rolled her eyes. She looked over at Daniel who watched the exchange between father and daughter with a grin on his face.

"She gets him every time," Nikita said, laughing as Michael embraced her from behind and kissed her cheek.

"That's because she takes after her mother," Michael said, then released his hold on Nikita and followed Chantel inside the house.

"You have a real nice family," Daniel said, as the door closed behind Michael.

Nikita nodded, a happy smile on her face. "Yeah. I do. I've been real lucky in that sense." Then she turned and smiled at Daniel. "I think I'm lucky to have such a nice young man for a little brother too."

He grinned back at her. "Thanks." He paused and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I know this isn't easy on you. I don't know if I could be so accepting if my father were to suddenly show up at my door dragging along a brother and sister I never knew existed."

Nikita took a deep breath and closed her eyes a moment as she leaned against the porch railing. "Life changes," she said after a while. "A couple of years ago I don't think I could be so accepting of this either. I still have some reservations about it even now." She stuck her fingers into her jeans and stared thoughtfully down at her boots. "I think parenthood, though, changes your perspective on things. You begin to see that things aren't always as simple as they seem. And that, sometimes, there are reasons that parents do things we kids can't always see or understand. I look at my Chantel, and I worry that I won't do the right thing by her. That I'll mess up somewhere or do something that might hurt her. But I pray that if I do mess up, that she'll have it in her heart to forgive me and that she'll continue to love me." Nikita blinked back the tears she felt and looked over at Daniel. "But Chantel can't do that if I don't teach her how."

Daniel stared at Nikita for several seconds, then said quietly. "I'm glad you're my sister."

Nikita walked over and pulled him in for a hug. "Me too," she said, then ruffled his hair. "Come on. I'll give you that tour I promised."

************

Michael often spoke to Chantel in French when they were alone and taught her little songs that they would sing together at bedtime. They were planning to spend the Christmas holidays in France with Madeline and Paul, and Michael wanted Chantel to be able to communicate with her cousins in their native tongue. She could, for the most part, understand everything he said to her in French, and there were a few simple phrases she knew how to say. Michael sometimes tested her knowledge by making up little games to play with her. But often she was impatient and would look up at her father with her beautiful eyes and order him to 'Say it in English, Daddy,' at which point he would laugh and give in to her demand.

He sat now on the side of Chantel's bed helping her to dress. "Head," Michael directed in French, and Chantel obediently tipped her head forward so that her father could slip her shirt on. "Left hand... right hand... turn around..." When she was completely dressed, Michael reached for the towel and began to dry her hair which was still damp. She laughed as he purposely rubbed the thick towel over her face.

"Daddy!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought that was your hair."

She giggled and hugged her father's stomach before he lifted her up onto his left knee, tilted his head to the side and looked at her. Her golden curls tumbled about her face and she pushed at them with her hand, sweeping them back. She flashed a toothy grin at him and looped an arm around his neck.

"I need to brush your hair," he said. Chantel shook her head and instead leaned against her father. "It’s going to be all tangled when you wake up."

Chantel yawned and curled her fingers around the edges of Michael's hair. "Is Uncle Daniel going to live with us?" she asked sleepily.

"No. He's just visiting."

"Oh." She was quiet for a little while, then asked, "Where do they live?"

"In California. "

"Is that far?"

"Yes," Michael answered.

"Like Paris?"

"Not that far, sweetheart. But it’s far enough." He shifted her, lifting her up onto the bed and laying her down. He pulled a sheet over her, then smoothed her hair back. Then Michael sat staring down at her. "Would you like a little brother and sister?" he asked.

"From California?" Chantel asked, her face serious.

"No." Michael began to laugh softly. "I mean a baby brother or sister. Like when they're born from a mommy's stomach."

Chantel scrunched her nose and made a face. "A baby can't fit in mommy's stomach."

"You did."

Chantel's eyes turned thoughtful. "I was in Mommy's stomach?"

"That's right," Michael said, and he began to feel he was treading on dangerous ground. He wasn't going to tell Chantel that Nikita was pregnant, but he wanted to see how she felt about having a brother or sister. Something with the way Chantel was staring at him, though, told him he should have waited till Nikita was present.

"How did I get in Mommy's stomach?"

Michael smiled. "That's a good question. We'll ask Mommy tonight, okay? Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

************

"You look a lot like her," Daniel mused, as he stared at Nikita. They were sitting under the shade of a tree on a hill not too far from the house. Nikita had wanted to take him horseback riding through the grounds, but Daniel had never ridden a horse before and he was nervous about doing so now. Normally Nikita would take the time to teach him, but with her pregnancy, she wasn't willing to take the risk of something going wrong. They ended up taking a walk up to the hill, then sat and talked.

She sat with her arms resting on upraised knees. "Guess I'll have to wait and see for myself."

"Are you nervous?"

"To a certain degree," Nikita answered.

"Mmm." Daniel replied. "Mom's nervous too. Kimber and I could sense her disappointment when we arrived this morning and you weren't home. But I think she was also a little relieved. Don't get me wrong -- she's dying to see you -- but," Daniel shrugged, "she's also worried about how you'll react to all of this."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Daniel looked straight out, admiring the land, as Nikita sat and absently plucked at the grass beside her. "What are your sisters like?" she asked after awhile.

The corner of Daniel's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "I think you'll like them," he said. "Kimber, that's what we call Kimberly, looks like our father. At least, that's what I've been told."

"You've never seen a picture of him?"

"I have," Daniel said, nonchalantly. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to look far beyond the rolling hills and wheat fields. "But they're just empty photos to me."

Nikita nodded silently. It was the same with her and the photos of Sharon she had. Looking at them was like looking at a photo from a magazine. There were no memories there... no connection.

"Anyway," Daniel continued, "Kimber has dark hair and light brown eyes. Of us three, she's the popular one. She gets along with everyone. Was always involved in school activities and sports. You know, that type. Jenna, on the other hand, is quiet. She and Brian began dating back in high school. They went off to different colleges, dated other people, and then came home over Christmas and decided that they didn't want to be with anyone else."

Nikita smiled at Daniel's narrative assessment of his two sisters. "And what about you?" she asked. "Is there anyone special in your life?" He laughed and shook his head.

"No. I'm still too young to be tying myself down to one girl."

"Really?" Nikita laughed. She liked Daniel. It was hard not to. He had an easy manner about him and was talkative. Not in an intrusive way, but as if they had known each other a long time. Nikita supposed that his sensitivity and openness must be a result of having been raised in a household of women.

Suddenly he stood and pointed out across the field to where a blue sedan was approaching the turn-off leading to the farm.

"That's them," he said.

Nikita felt her heart lurch as she turned her gaze in the direction to which Daniel pointed. She watched the car slow, then turn and drive up the lane to the house till it came to a stop behind the Explorer. The doors opened and Nikita, her eyes straining, could see Adrian, then a dark haired girl, that would be Kimber, and last of all a woman, tall and slender in a summer dress, exit from the car. She stood and turned to see Daniel watching her.

"Are you okay?"

Nikita nodded and attempted a smile. "Yes, fine."

"Come on then," he said, with an encouraging smile. "I'll introduce you."

*

Sharon peered up at the main house with anxious eyes and wondered again if she had done the right thing in coming here to the farm. Surely Nikita's over the past three months was an indication that she wanted nothing to do with her. But Sharon was unable to stay away any longer. She had to at least try and re-establish the fragile mother-daughter relationship she had foolishly severed all those years ago. She was the one who had left Nikita, therefore, Sharon believed it was she who needed to make the first move in reconnecting with Nikita. If after seeing her, Nikita decided she still wanted nothing to do with her, then Sharon vowed she would honor her oldest daughter's wishes.

"Mom, look." Kimberly touched her arm and pointed in the opposite direction. Walking slowly toward them was Daniel and a woman Sharon knew could only be Nikita. Her breath caught in her throat and the world around her faded away as she was drawn into the memory of a time long past. The image of a baby girl with flaxen colored hair, chubby cheeks, and blue-gray eyes, drifted before her. She recalled the tears she shed the first time she had held her in her arms, a warm bundle of life. The feel of velvety skin beneath her inquisitive fingers and her baby-fresh powdery scent. It had been twenty-seven long years since Sharon had last seen Nikita. She stood in a silent daze, staring at the grown woman walking slowly toward her.

Nikita stopped about six feet away from Sharon. She stared at the slender woman before her. The short, stylishly cut blond hair, light colored eyes, the high cheekbones, and wide mouth... Nikita searched her mind for a memory -- anything -- to connect with the woman before her, but found nothing.

Sharon swallowed hard, then took two faltering steps forward on legs that seemed to belong to someone else. She blinked back the tears that blurred her vision and smiled hesitantly.

"Hello, Nikita," she said. Her voice was gentle, hopeful.

Nikita stuffed her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans as she met her mother's gaze blankly. "Hi."

Daniel watched the exchange, then stepped in as the silence became awkward. "This is Kimber," he said, pointing her toward his sister. Nikita's gaze shifted over to the dark-haired girl standing behind and to the left of Sharon and she extended her hand out.

"Hi, Kimber."

Kimber shook her hand warmly. "It’s so good to meet you. Finally. After all these years!" Nikita glanced over at Daniel, smiling slightly, before turning back to Kimber.

"It’s good to meet you too."

"Well." Adrian walked up and smiled all around, contributing her own effort to ease the tension. "Lets go inside. It’s much too hot to be standing around out here." She turned and led the way over to her studio. Kimber followed, glancing first back at Nikita and then Sharon. Daniel placed a hand on Nikita's elbow, but she stopped him, and looked up into his eyes.

"You go on with Kimber," she said quietly. "I'd like some time to speak alone with your mother." Sharon blinked, then looked over at her son. She nodded, indicating that he should do as Nikita asked.

"All right," he said, then squeezed Nikita's hand and touched his mother's shoulder before he turned and joined Kimber and Adrian.

Now that they were alone, the two women stood and stared at each other. Tears continued to course slowly down Sharon's face, while Nikita frowned a little and looked away.

"There's a bench under the oak tree in front," Nikita said. "We can talk privately there." She turned and began walking, and Sharon followed two paces behind.

The late afternoon sun was hot but not unbearably so. There was a gentle breeze that helped to cool the air. Occasionally the faint whoosh of a car speeding by on the main road, and the chirping of birds nearby, interrupted the silence that seemed to engulf the two women. As they approached the oak tree, Moonbeam, who was curled up on the bench, looked up lazily at the intruders into his private little retreat. Nikita lifted him off of the chair and placed him on the ground. He stood there a moment, his tail held high and looking rather annoyed, before sauntering off toward the house. Nikita turned to Sharon and pointed to the now empty bench.

"Have a seat."

"Thank you." Sharon sat down, placed her purse on top of her lap, and clasped her hands over it. She looked up to see Nikita standing a few feet away staring out over the fields. Sharon's eyes lowered, focusing on her hands, then she said in that same quiet, hopeful voice: "It’s been a long time."

Nikita blinked, then turned her head to stare at her mother. She remained silent.

Sharon reached up and removed the hat from her head. She ran her fingers through her short hair, then sat and fingered the edge of her hat. "I'm sorry if this has upset you, Nikita," she said at length. Sharon looked up to meet Nikita's gaze. "I know I have no right to re-enter your life like this --"

"Then why did you?" Nikita said suddenly, her voice low but hard. She struggled to keep the volley of emotions within her from bursting forth as she gave Sharon a piercing stare.

"I wanted to see you."

Nikita gave a short derisive laugh. "You wanted to see me?" Her voice was edged with scorn as she turned her gaze away. "It took you twenty-seven years to want to see me," she said, her voice slightly softer, but still bitter. She shook her head, disbelievingly. "Do you have any idea how many years I waited for you to show up?" Nikita asked slowly, her voice becoming husky and her eyes beginning to sting. "Year after year. I waited for you. There were no cards, no letters. Not even a phone call."

"Nikita. Please believe me, I wanted to contact you..."

"But you didn't," Nikita said, turning her head back to face Sharon. "It took me a long time to accept that you were gone for good from my life. And I learned to go on. I can't tell you how much it hurt me to find out after all this time that you had other children."

"Let me explain..."

"No. Let me finish first, please." As Sharon sat back, Nikita continued. "I thought I was over the pain of losing you, but I was wrong. Finding out that you were alive and that you had a family that I wasn't part of... it ripped me apart, Sharon. All the old insecurities that I grew up with came roaring back into my life. And I hated you. With all my soul I hated you."

Sharon closed her eyes, hiding the pain that Nikita's words inflicted upon her. But she sat quietly. Accepting her daughter's anger. Knowing that she deserved every bit of it. Perhaps it had been a foolish idea, she thought, to have wanted to come back. And to hope that Nikita could accept her back into her life. Sharon wiped at her tears, then opened her eyes to look up at Nikita. "I'm so sorry, Nikita."

Nikita took a deep breath and looked away. "It’s all right," she said finally, her voice tired. "I'm not saying that I forgive you for what you've done. That may take a while."

Sharon blinked several times, a trace of hope rekindling inside of her. "Are you saying you'll give me a chance?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Nikita kept her eyes averted and she reached up to wipe the tears from her face. "Yes," she said quietly, then turned to look at Sharon. "Don't expect too much from me, Sharon. There's still a lot that we have to deal with."

Sharon nodded, more tears flowed down her face, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "I know."

Nikita looked away again. "How long will you be here?"

"A couple of days. We've checked into the lodge downtown."

Nikita paused, then said, "You can stay here with us if you want. There's a spare bedroom that you and Kimber can use. Daniel can take the couch downstairs."

Sharon swallowed, then slowly stood. "Are you sure? It’s no trouble for us to stay at the lodge. The drives not that far and --"

"Stay with us," Nikita interrupted, her eyes meeting Sharon's. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Please. I'd like for Chantel to know Daniel and Kimber. And you. Will that be all right?"

Sharon nodded slowly. "Of course."

"I'll ask Michael and Daniel to go pick up your things," Nikita said, then turned to walk back toward the house.

"Nikita?"

She stopped, then looked back over her shoulder to where her mother stood.

"Thank you."

She nodded once, then turned and continued toward the house.

************

Michael helped Daniel carry their luggage upstairs to the spare bedroom, then went looking for Nikita. He found her in their bedroom, freshly showered and half-dressed. His hands immediately circled her waist from behind and he pulled her back against him.

"Mmm," he said, burying his face in the curve of her neck. "You smell good."

Nikita turned and ran the palm of her hands up his chest, over his shoulder, and around his neck. Silently she tilted her head back for a long, deep kiss. "I needed that," she whispered several minutes later. Michael stroked the side of her face, kissed her brow, then hugged her lightly.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked. Nikita sighed, then nodded.

"Things are a little awkward between Sharon and me. But we'll be okay."

"Good." Michael released her, then began to undress as he headed toward the bathroom. "Chantel seems to be adjusting well. I saw her downstairs just now with Kimber."

"I know. And that reminds me, I have to take her to register for school next week," Nikita said, as she leaned forward to scrutinize her reflection in the mirror. "I can't believe how fast she's growing," she continued, picking up her mascara and twisting off the top.

"Neither can I"

Nikita looked up to see him walk out from the bathroom and stroll over to his dresser. He picked up his shaver and was about to return to the bathroom when he caught her staring at him. Her mouth curved upwards as her eyes glided down his body. Then she smiled as he walked slowly toward her. Her eyes remained locked on his in the mirror. Then she smiled as he came to stand behind her again. "What are you doing?" she asked, placing the mascara down.

He smiled back at her. "Guess."

"The reservation is for 7:30."

"That gives us plenty of time."

"No it doesn't," she answered, closing her eyes and leaning back against him. "Not for what I want from you."

Michael's smile deepened. "And what would that be?" he asked. His hands smoothed over the silk of her slip as he reached around and caressed her stomach.

Nikita laughed softly, then sighed and opened her eyes to look at him longingly. "Give me a massage tonight? When we get back?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

His hands glided upward. "Of course," he said softly, and Nikita smiled and let her head roll back. She reached up to cover Michael's hands with her own as he cupped her breasts.

"You're beginning to swell already," he whispered into her ear, then squeezed gently. "Does that hurt?"

"Not really." Nikita guided his hands and showed him just how much pressure to give. He continued to caress her, then asked with a smile:

"Remember the first time we made love?"

Nikita began to chuckle. "How can I forget?"

"You wore a nightgown that was buttoned up to here --" Michael smiled as he reached up and touched her chin.

"And you wore nothing at all -- like now." Nikita laughed. "I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

"That was the whole idea," Michael replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Nikita turned in his arms, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she shifted her hand downward and immediately felt him respond to her touch. "You're beginning to swell too," she said, a grin spreading across her face. "Maybe you'd better go take that shower now."

"Cruel woman," Michael said with a sigh, bending to kiss her quickly, then turned and walked back to the bathroom.

************

The kitchen door swung open with a quiet swoosh. Michael, who was standing at the sink washing out his glass, looked up to see Nikita enter. Faded sweats and a plain t-shirt replaced the dress she had worn to dinner. Her hair hung in loose waves about her shoulders and down her back. Her face was freshly scrubbed clean of all make-up. Michael turned off the tap and dried his hands on a dishcloth. "That was quick," he said, and Nikita nodded as she stopped in front of the fridge and opened the freezer.

"She was tired. I didn't even have to read a story."

Michael pulled open the drawer to his right, retrieved a spoon, then walked over to join Nikita. "Ice cream?"

Nikita leaned back against him, sighing as he pressed closer and folded his arms about her. "I tried to resist but it kept calling me."

Michael raised a brow. "The ice cream called you?"

"That's right," Nikita answered, as a smile spread across her lips as she placed her arms atop his. "It said, 'Come and get me.'"

Michael turned his head and put his lips next to Nikita's ear. "No wonder Chantel has such a vivid imagination. She inherited it from your side of the family."

"Oh!" Nikita twisted around in Michael's arms and jabbed her fingers into Michael's ribs as he laughed and grabbed hold of her hands. The spoon fell with a clatter to the ground.

"Kita!" he whispered, then pulled her to him and sealed his lips to hers. He grunted with satisfaction as he felt her mouth yield to his, her lips parting to allow him entry. Nikita's hands glided around his waist and she embraced him. Her body was warm, soft, and filled Michael with longing. "Are you sure it was the ice cream calling you?" he asked, gazing into her amused blue eyes.

"Now that you mention it, I think it did sound more like your voice I heard."

"Mm. I thought so." Michael chuckled, then bent to kiss her quickly once more before Nikita turned around to face the open freezer.

"I see you stocked up," she said with a smile.

"Yes." He pressed his cheek against hers and gazed with satisfaction at the variety of flavors staring out at them. "There's rocky road, strawberry, pineapple sherbert, mint chocolate, fudge revel--"

"Vanilla?"

Michael paused, then looked at her. "You want vanilla?"

Nikita smiled apologetically. "French vanilla actually. Please, tell me you bought some."

The corners of his mouth lifted as his gaze swept over her face adoringly. He stepped around her and moved the front row of pint size containers aside, searched a little, then pulled out what he was looking for. "Voila," he said, with a little flair. "French vanilla."

Nikita beamed at him as she took the ice cream. She pulled him toward the door, stopping to get another spoon, then led Michael out to the porch. They walked over to and sat down on the whickered love seat. Michael sat on one end, positioning himself so that Nikita could curl her body against him. He closed his eyes, sighed with contentment, and listened to the sound of her opening the plastic wrap around the ice cream container. A few seconds later he heard her soft moan of satisfaction. Michael smiled and leaned his head back. His left hand found its way beneath her t-shirt and slipped underneath the elastic waistband of her sweats. He cupped his hand against her flat stomach and, with his thumb, caressed the silky little dip of skin where her bellybutton was located. He could feel the lacy trim of her panties and he curved his fingers to slip inside.

"Michael," Nikita whispered, her voice husky as she shifted and tugged Michael's hand up into safer territory. "Someone might catch us."

"So?" he whispered back, and his fingers slipped back down. "It’s dark. They won't see anything."

"And what if they--" Nikita inhaled sharply, then bit down on her lower lip as her breathing quickened. "Oh... Michael, please."

Michael stroked his cheek against her heated one as his fingers continued their caresses below. Nikita turned her face, finding his mouth, and breathed against his lips, "You're playing with fire." His fingers zeroed in on their sensitive target, eliciting a whimpering moan from Nikita.

"I know," Michael whispered back, kissing her.

"Please," she begged, her voice thick with emotion. Michael sighed and withdrew his fingers as he nipped her lower lip gently.

"Very well, my love," he said, as he readjusted her clothing. She echoed his sigh, then relaxed against him. Michael took the ice cream and spoon from her and spent the next few minutes alternating spoonfuls between Nikita and himself. When she had had her fill, he closed the container and placed it down on the floor next to them, then he shifted slightly so that Nikita could more comfortably lie against him. They sat for the next several minutes, enjoying the quiet of the night and each other's company.

"Are you sleeping?" Nikita asked after a long while.

"No. Just thinking," he said softly.

"What about?"

Michael opened his eyes. "About us. Our lives."

"Oh?" Nikita took his hand in hers, twined her fingers through his, and turned to press her ear against his chest. She could hear the strong beating of his heart. "What about our lives?" she asked.

Michael smiled, then leaned his forehead against the top of her head. He breathed in deeply then released it slowly. "Nothing. And everything," he said finally, his voice sounding peacefully content. "I'm just happy."

Nikita tilted her head back and looked him in the eyes. "About the baby?" Michael nodded, and though Nikita couldn't see his eyes clearly in the dark, she knew the exact hue of green to which they turned.

"The baby. You. Chantel. Our whole life." He was a quiet a moment as his fingers caressed hers. His voice became softer and reflective. "When I was younger I had great ambitions in life. I wanted to become a successful businessman. Have a beautiful home here in the states and in France. Maybe in Monte Carlo or the Bahamas. Expensive cars, clothes. Internationally famous... those sort of dreams," Michael said.

Nikita shifted and a serious look came into her eyes. "Do you--"

"No, Nikita. I don't." Michael answered, cutting off her question before she had a chance to finish it. He placed both of his strong hands on either side of her face and gazed deeply into her eyes. "Mon ame," he whispered, as his thumb brushed over her lips. "You are my soul, my life, Nikita. Nothing brings me as much joy as waking up beside you. Hearing you whisper my name in your sleep. Or seeing our daughter alive and healthy. Your smile. These are the things that matter most in my life." Michael paused and moved his face close to hers. "I don't need the fame or expensive homes and cars. All I need is you and our children."

She smiled as her eyes filled with tears. Then she leaned forward and kissed him long and slow. After a few minutes he pulled gently away. "Let’s go to bed," he said, standing. He stooped to pick up the ice cream and the spoon, then offered his hand to Nikita, pulling her up to her feet. Michael draped his arm around her shoulder as she slipped her arm around his waist and together they made their way back into the house.

************

Michael and Nikita ran into Sharon as they entered through the kitchen door. She jumped slightly, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh!" she said, surprised at encountering them. "I thought you two had gone to bed."

"No," Nikita replied. "We were outside. Is everything all right? Can we get you anything?"

"No! No, I'm fine," Sharon smiled. "Kimber's gone to bed and Daniel's watching television. I just wanted to get some fresh air."

"It is a nice night out," Michael said. "Nikita and I like to sit out there at nights and unwind after a busy day."

Sharon looked from Michael over to Nikita. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but then the expression in her eyes closed and she stepped off to the side instead. "I'm sure you two must be tired. I won't keep you any longer."

Nikita hesitated. They had gone all gone out to dinner tonight and though the atmosphere had been a little tense, the evening was, for the most part, a success. Chantel loved the attention Kimber and Daniel showered on her. She, in turn, worked her charm on them, gracing her newly found uncle and aunt with her dimpled smile and committing them to a tea party she was planning on having the next day. Adrian and Sharon spoke easily with one another. The rift between them, caused by the years of separation, had begun to heal when Adrian had attended Jenny's wedding earlier in the year. Since then, Adrian and Sharon spoke regularly on the phone. Nikita was mostly quiet through the evening. Once in a while, when a question was addressed toward her, she would smile politely and answer as Michael sat to her side. They all knew that it would take some time for her to accept Sharon back into her life but, at least, they were at a beginning.

Nikita turned to gaze up at Michael and a look passed between them. He squeezed her hand gently, knowing instinctively what it was she wanted. "I'll be upstairs," he said, and Nikita smiled at him gratefully. Michael then turned to smile at Sharon and bid her goodnight.

"I didn't mean to keep you, Nikita," Sharon said when Michael had left. "You must be tired."

Nikita stared down at the floor briefly before raising her eyes to meet Sharon's. "Actually I'd like this time to talk with you. If you don't mind, that is."

Sharon moved as if to reach out to Nikita, then, catching herself, she withdrew her hands and clasped them behind her. "Of course I don't mind. In fact, I'd like that a lot," she said quietly.

Nikita nodded, then turned and led the way back outside. This time, instead of going to the chair which she and Michael had shared a few minutes earlier, Nikita wandered over to the railing and leaned forward against it, looking out at the night. The air was warm and there wasn't a cloud in the dark, star-laden sky.

"It’s beautiful, isn't it?"

Nikita turned to look at Sharon who had come to stand about a yard away from her. "Yes, it is."

Mother and daughter looked at each other a little awkwardly, then Nikita turned and folded her arms as she leaned back against the railing.

"When I was Chantel's age," Nikita said, her voice quiet in her remembrance, "I used to sit by my window at night and stare out at that very sky. I'd wait, hoping to see a shooting star, then I would close my eyes and wish--" Nikita paused, her voice falling silent. Then she gave a brief laugh. "Well, it doesn't matter what I wished," she said at last.

Pain tremored through Sharon at Nikita's words and pictured her staring wistfully up at the stars. When she spoke, her voice betrayed the ache she felt to be reconciled with her eldest child. "Did you wish for me to return?" she asked.

"Sometimes," Nikita acknowledged. "Most of the time, though, I just wished for answers."

Several seconds of silence passed, then Sharon said quietly, "I know there's no excuse for what I did, Nikita. But if you'll let me, I'd like to try and explain."

Nikita looked away as tears stung her eyes. Not trusting her voice, she nodded silently. She hated the vulnerability she felt towards this stranger who was her mother but, deep inside, she knew that only Sharon could provide the answers which had eluded her her whole life. Nikita didn't know if there was a chance for her and Sharon to ever build the sort of relationship which she had with Chantel, but, perhaps they could share some sort of future. If not as mother and daughter, then, at least, as friends? She was surprised when she felt Sharon's fingers touch her cheek.

"I never meant to hurt you," Sharon said, and felt her daughter tremble beneath her fingers. "Please believe that."

"Why did you do it?" Nikita asked, turning to look at Sharon. There was no accusation in her voice, just a desire to understand. "Why did you leave?"

Sharon dropped her hand to her side, sighed, then said in a hushed voice. "It was mostly fear."

Nikita frowned, a line forming between her brows as she stared at Sharon's profile. "Fear? I don't understand."

"No. I guess you wouldn't," Sharon said quietly. She turned, steepled her hands beneath her chin, and closed her eyes momentarily. "When I gave birth to you, and they placed you in my arms, it was the most incredible experience I could ever imagine. To hold you, this tiny little baby, wriggling with life, and to know that you were mine... I was overwhelmed."

"And afraid?"

"Yes," Sharon said, her hands falling down to her side. "I had no idea how I was going to raise you. I could barely hold my own act together and now suddenly, I was the mother of a beautiful little girl."

Nikita closed her eyes, struggling to keep her emotions under control. "Surely you had other options," she said, her voice wavering. "You could have aborted me."

Sharon's head snapped up and she stared at Nikita. "No. That was never an option for me, Nikita." Sharon turned, stepping in front of Nikita, allowing her to see the pleading in her eyes. She raised her hands and placed them on either side of her daughter's face, gazing into her eyes. "You don't know what I was like at that age. But I was pretty messed up. There was talk of adoption, but I couldn't give you up to strangers and chance never ever seeing you again. I couldn't. I know it may not make much sense to you now, but I truly believed I was doing the right thing when I left you in your grandparents care. And now, looking at what a beautiful job they did of raising you, I still believe I did the right thing."

***

Michael was asleep when Nikita entered their bedroom. The bedside lamp was still on and a book lay open upon his bare chest. She closed the door quietly, then tiptoed over to his side of the bed and stood staring down at him. The strong lines of his face were relaxed in sleep and Nikita marveled at how much Chantel looked like him when she was asleep also. She reached down and carefully removed the book. The movement though woke him and Michael blinked once, then focused on her.

"Kita."

Her heart raced at the look of love in his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and held the sheet up over him.

"Come here."

She placed the book on top of the table, then climbed carefully in under the sheet and lay on top of him as he tucked the sheet around them. His arms enfolded her as she fit her face in the curve of his neck. "I'm sorry I took so long," she whispered.

"Shhh." He turned, kissing her brow. "Is everything okay?"

Nikita reflected briefly on her talk with Sharon, her mother, and she nodded as his hands rubbed her back. "Yes."

"That's good," he said, then reached over to turn off the light. Then they lay quietly as he stroked her hair and she sought comfort from the solid strength of his arms and body.

"We had a good long talk," Nikita told him. "I don't agree with everything she said and did, but, I understand a little more now."

"Does it help?" he asked, and Nikita nodded silently in the dark, her face brushing against his neck. "I love you," Michael said, and Nikita made a soft whimpering sound as she burrowed closer and whispered back into his ear her love for him. Then he gently rolled Nikita over and waited for her to position herself comfortably on her side. Michael curved his body around hers, then embraced her and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

************

Nikita smiled as she leaned back against the trunk of a tree and listened to the sound of Chantel's laughter as she played chase with Daniel and Kimber. A few yards away Adrian and Sharon were setting up their lunch on a picnic table. Nikita shifted her gaze down to where Michael lay stretched out between her legs. She ran her fingers through his hair then trailed the back of her hand down the side of his face. He reached up and caught her hand, then pressed it against his lips.

They were at Lake Vernon on this, the last day of Sharon and Daniel and Kimber's visit. They had extended their stay from three days to five. During that time Nikita grew steadily more comfortable around her mother's presence. The awkwardness that had ruled their relationship when Sharon first arrived had slowly ebbed. Nikita found that she loved having younger siblings, especially since Daniel and Kimber were so easy to get along with. Despite the rather hard life they had lived, they were happy and it showed in their easy laughter. They adored Chantel, spoiling her worse than Michael did, and Nikita noticed that her daughter flourished under the added attention.

She was running rolling around on the ground now, giggling as Daniel tickled her. "Aunty Kimber!" she screamed, between fits of laughter, "Help me!"

"I'm coming!" Kimber called, and she ran over, tackling her brother to the grass and holding him face down as she instructed Chantel to sit on his back and tickle him. Chantel struggled up, her face alight with laughter as she climbed quickly onto Daniel's back and began to tickle him.

Nikita felt Michael shake and looked down to see him laughing as Chantel and Kimber double-tagged on poor Daniel.

"She should have been a boy," Nikita murmured, smiling.

"She's perfect," Michael answered proudly, his fingers twining with Nikita's. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and leaned carefully back against his wife. "Am I too heavy?" he asked.

"No," Nikita answered as she slipped her arms around his waist, then rested her cheek against his. "She's going to miss them when they leave."

"I know," Michael answered. He paused, then said softly, "I think you will too." He felt Nikita's arms tighten about him and heard her sigh.

"I think so too," she said finally, her voice a low whisper. Then she pressed her head closer to Michael's.

Sharon glanced over to where Michael and Nikita sat and a contented smile filled her countenance. "How far along do you think she is?"

"You noticed too?" Adrian asked, looking up from the potato salad she was mixing, and Sharon nodded.

"It’s hard not to notice that glow about her," she commented. "And Michael is so protective of her."

"Have you noticed the way he slips his hand over her stomach when they think no one's watching?"

"Yes," Sharon smiled wistfully. Then she sighed and Adrian glanced up at her.

"Something wrong?"

"No." Sharon laughed. "I'm just happy for her. For both of them."

"He's very good to her," Adrian said. "And she loves him very much."

"They make a good couple," Sharon agreed, then looked over to where Chantel was running beside Kimber, her hand in hers, as Daniel chased them on his hands and knees. Sharon laughed and shook her head as she reached over and touched Adrian's shoulder and pointed over to the kids. "Do you think they told her yet?"

"Believe me, if they did, Chantel would have announced it by now. No. She doesn't know yet."

"It'll be interesting to see how she'll take the news," Sharon said. "She's been their only child for so long."

"I'm sure Michael and Nikita will find a way to explain it to her. Michael spoils her rotten but Nikita's very good about teaching Chantel about the important things like sharing and being courteous. She's a very good mother."

"Thanks to you," Sharon said softly.

Adrian glanced up again. "I didn't mean that--"

"I know you didn't," Sharon said, smiling down at her. "And I don't take it as such. I'm merely saying that you and Dad did a great job in raising her.... thank you."

Adrian blinked quickly, then placed her hand on top of Sharon's. "You're welcome."

************

Tiny bubbles and soapy water splashed up into the air as an exuberant Chantel splashed about in the tub.

"Look, Mommy, I'm a fish!"

Nikita looked up from where she stood cleaning the sink counter and a smile hovered over her lips. "I've never seen a fish who makes as much noise swimming as you do."

Chantel grinned and slid once more cross the length of the tub, splashing about more water and bubbles. "Uncle Danny said there are lots of fishes in the ocean close to where they live."

"I'm sure there are." Nikita replied, as she finished her task and began to scrub her hands clean.

"Can we go visit them?"

"Who? The fishes?"

"No!" Chantel giggled. "Uncle Danny and Grandma Sharon."

"But they haven't even left yet."

"I know. But when they do. Can we go to visit them? Uncle Danny said he would take me to the beach. I've never been to the beach before. Is it nice? Uncle Danny says there's lots of sand and girls in bikinis."

Nikita smiled. "We'll talk about that later. Right now you need to take a bath."

"I already did."

"No," Nikita replied, reaching for a washcloth and bath gel. "I mean a real bath. One in which you actually scrub."

Chantel sat up, clumps of frothy bubbles clung to her chin and shoulders. She began to carefully spread the bubbles down her arms. "The bubbles will scrub me clean. See?"

"No, I don't see."

There was a knock at the door and Nikita looked over her shoulder to see Michael entering. He smiled down at Chantel who grinned back at him, then turned his attention to Nikita. His eyes quickly scanned over her face noting the paleness of her skin and the slight redness in her eyes. He knelt down beside her and removed the washcloth from her hand.

"I'll finish up," he said softly. "Go get some rest."

"I'm okay."

His fingers twined with hers. "You were up half the night."

"So were you."

"Yes," he answered, "but I wasn't the one sick."

As they argued lightly, Chantel reached for the cloth and bottle of gel. She squeezed more of the scented soap onto the washcloth, then placed the bottle on the side and began to soap herself up. "I can take a bath by myself," she said, more to herself then to either of their parents.

Michael and Nikita exchanged looks then began to laugh softly.

"Go," Michael said, giving Nikita's hand a little squeeze. "I'll keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't use up the whole bottle."

Nikita surrendered and turned to Chantel. "Sweetheart, Daddy's going to take over. I've got your clothes laid out on the chair for when you're finished. Michael, don't let her talk you into not shampooing her hair."

"Aw, Mommy," Chantel pouted, "I already washed my hair yesterday."

"It needs shampooing again," Nikita said firmly, as she rose to her feet. "You were rolling all over the grass today and it smells sweaty." She caught the look that was exchanged between father and daughter and Nikita shook her head, smiling, as she left the two of them together.