It wasn't until they were outside that Valerie realized she hadn't actually given her consent to go for a walk, but rather Wesley had assumed it. As pleased as she was with the man's smooth and gracious manners, that small detail irked her. However, she was equally gracious and decided to overlook it.

“So, you have been here for nearly seven years?” she asked companionably, her hand lightly resting in the crook of his arm. “What a wonder you've built your ranch up so quickly.”

“I've been fortunate. That's for sure.” He nodded agreeably, but seemed distracted.

“Did the previous owner give you a good price?” She was actually curious about such things, but he seemed reluctant to answer.

“Something like that. However, there's so much more to it than that. I would hate to bore you with it all on such a beautiful night.” He gently guided her around the main house toward the back, away from the windows. “But I want to hear more about your family back east. Why did you leave? You can tell me. I won’t tell a soul.”

She didn’t like to talk about her family or her personal life in general, so she tried to steer the conversation back to ranching. “Oh, there were a few different reasons, but I’m so interested in your life. When did you decide to come out here?”

As she'd learned from her years at finishing school, men generally loved to talk about themselves. At first, Wesley seemed to be no different and gave her an elaborate description of how his family home and business had fallen after the war, but then he again came back to her.

“Your parents must be anxious about you,” he said lightly. “Are you really not going to communicate with them further?”

Frustration rose in her breast, but she worked to not let it show. “They've had enough control over my life. I have no desire to cater to their wishes anymore. In any case, I can’t be sure that they are worried. As far as they know, they think I’m with my aunt for now. I hope to return before they’re any the wiser.” Two weeks, she thought to herself. And then one more week to get back home, hopefully with Thomas on her arm.

“If I had such a beautiful daughter, I would be worried for her safety,” he murmured softly, his eyes softening.

She recognized the compliment, and in another time or place, might have felt pleased by it, but her heart was set on Thomas and she was not so fickle as to change its mind in the span of a few hours. A prickle of annoyance came over her at Wesley’s insistence on taking her outside. Since she could hardly hope to make Thomas jealous while out of his line of vision, she decided that their walk had gone on long enough.

“I'm actually feeling a bit tired now.” She turned toward the house, but gave him a smile as she did so. “Thank you so much for the walk. It was most invigorating.”

Wesley didn't protest her desire to return to the house, but he did give her a puzzled look. “I'm deeply sorry for intruding on your privacy. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, no. That's quite alright. I just don't like to talk about it. I want to leave the past in the past.”

She nearly laughed as she said this. It had only been a little over a week since she'd left home, but she was speaking as though it had been years.

“Of course,” he replied so gallantly that she nearly felt sorry for how she was using him. However, he'd partly brought it on himself.

Just before they reached the door, he stopped. Valerie let go of his arm and took one more step in order to put a bit of distance between them before she turned to look at him. “I would be very pleased if I could see you again,” he said, a soft look on his face. “Do you know how long you plan to stay here?”

Her mind raced. She didn't want to encourage this man, but at the same time, what excuse could she give?

“I'm not exactly sure. I don't want to impose for too much longer, but I'm waiting to hear from someone.” She forced herself to smile, but not too broadly. This ruse had to end now.

His eyebrows rose, but when she offered no more explanation, he chuckled a little. “Ah, a woman of intrigue. Well, I shall come by again in a few days and see if you are still here. Hopefully at that time, you will grant me the pleasure of another walk or perhaps even a picnic?”

She wanted to refuse, but how? “Ah, well, perhaps.” It sounded coy rather than evasive, but that couldn't be helped now. “Are you coming back in for dessert?”

Wesley shook his head. “I really must head back now if I'm to get up with the sun. I bid you good night, madam.” Without warning, he bowed and smoothly brought her hand to his lips. He was just bestowing a light kiss on fingertips when the door opened and Thomas emerged, a frown on his face.

“Oh, so you didn't get eaten by wolves after all,” he declared rather loudly. “Good to know. Well, good night, Mister Crawford, Val.” He nodded at them both and then stalked toward the bunkhouse.

Valerie barely heard Wesley say something else. Her heart trembled at what she hoped was jealousy emanating from Thomas.

“Good night,” she murmured, turning to enter the house, a soft smile on her face. God was answering her prayers.

* * *

He knew it was unreasonable of him, but Thomas couldn't stop fuming. Although things had gone exactly as he'd hoped with Wesley Crawford and Valerie, he felt angry.

“Her feelings for me weren't too strong then, were they?” he grumbled into his pillow, giving it a punch for good measure. “If she could be swept off her feet in the course of a few hours, then I'm better off all together.”

“Wasn't that the point?” Carl asked wearily from the bunk above him. “Now stop grumbling and get some sleep. We've got lots of work to do tomorrow.”

Grunting in reply, Thomas frowned and tried to sort out his feelings. Finally, he determined that his anger came from how easily Valerie appeared to get over her supposed love for him. She'd come all the way West to force his hand, but that was all forgotten at the sight of another good-looking man of wealth.

He knew he was being stupid. He'd gone to Crawford hoping the man would take an interest in Valerie and thereby offer a solution to the predicament, but now he wished he'd never gone. Bitter gall rose in his throat as he recalled her simpering at the wealthy rancher's every word.

“She's exactly who I thought,” he told himself. “Despite putting on a good show, she's still like every other woman in New York, just looking for a man of position who'll support her for the rest of her life.”

Even as the words tumbled out of his mouth, eliciting another sigh from Carl, Thomas couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that Valerie had gotten over him that quickly.

Just then, it occurred to him that she was using Wesley to make him jealous. The thought cheered him greatly, even if he couldn't say why. He didn't want to marry her, but he suddenly didn't enjoy the thought of Wesley Crawford having her either. So, now what?

He wished he had the faith of so many of the others on the ranch, but he couldn't overcome the hurdles of his youth when the Bible had been used to warn and threaten. His parents had manipulated the words of the good book to force him to obey. The faith of Luke, Kate, Marge, Elise and John was clearly different from his parents’, but his heart was still too hard to receive. Over the past five years, he'd learned to do things on his own, and he planned to continue doing just that.

* * *

Valerie walked into the barn the next morning with Maddie to help her collect eggs. In truth, the young girl was doing it, and Valerie was just watching.

“But don't they peck you? I mean, you're taking their babies from them.”

“They're not babies yet, Miss Valerie,” she said in a voice that was so condescending and patient at the same time, Valerie nearly chuckled. Likely, the young girl had heard her own mother speak to her in that way. “If I tried to take a baby chick, they’d peck, but right now they don't care too much.”

She saw how the girl first talked to the chickens and then easily slid her hand underneath to retrieve an egg and put it in her basket.

“That's amazing,” she murmured. “You're so brave.”

“Aw, they don't mind,” Maddie replied, but her cheeks flushed with pride. “You can try the next one if you want.”

Valerie shook her head. “No, thank you. Maybe tomorrow.”

“You're afraid of the chickens?” a deep voice asked. She whirled around to see Thomas leaning against a post and grinning at the scene. “What kind of a rancher's wife can't get a few eggs?”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to comment about wives,” she retorted. “And I never said I wanted to be a rancher’s wife anyway.” Even though that had been true, she no longer felt as confident as she once had. It had been her intention to convince Thomas to come back to New York with her, but she was starting to see the appeal of a simpler life. What was more, she realized that she was beginning to think she’d never be able to pull him away from the West. More and more she was seeing how well it suited him.

“But isn't that what you're trying to pull off?” he challenged, pointedly looking at her simple dress.

Two bright spots of red appeared on her cheeks. She hated that he could see right through her. “It would be rather ridiculous if I wore a silk gown to gather eggs, wouldn't it?”

Maddie had gone back into the house with her basket after giving the two adults a wary look. Clearly, she didn't want to be involved in their argument.

“Val, I wish you would just say what's on your mind, so I can say what's on mine.”

Lips tight, she crossed her arms and glared at him. The stress of pretending and manipulating was getting the better of her. With all her heart, she longed to do what he'd asked, so she gave herself permission.

“Alright then. Thomas Wellington,” she started sharply, “you were supposed to marry me when I turned eighteen. I'm quite sure that you knew I was in love with you when you left, but you didn't even do me the courtesy of letting me know you were leaving. I held onto the hope for four years that you would come back, believing you would show up on my eighteenth birthday, ready to fulfill your commitment.” Her voice started to quaver, and he took a step toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I've made no room in my heart for anyone else, spurned every other potential suitor and ruined any chance with eligible men because I was so sure of you.”

She was on the brink of tears, and hated herself for it. At the very moment she wanted to seem strong, he would think she was weak. But his next words took her by surprise.

“What do you mean in love?” His voice was tinged with scorn. “It was a schoolgirl infatuation which I was pretty sure you'd grow out of. Admit it, Val, you're not in love with me now, and you never really were. It's just the idea of me that you like, heir to a dynasty.”

Now her temper flared to its fullest. “Don't you dare presume to tell me how I feel or felt in the past! I may have been young, but I knew my own mind.” She tried to control herself by taking a deep breath. “But you're right about one thing. I don't know how I feel now. You are not the man I thought you would turn out to be. The Thomas I fell in love with five years ago was thoughtful and generous. You are just a self-serving coward.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don't hold anything back now, Val. Get it all out.”

She gave a little laugh, full of contempt. “And then you try to foist some high and mighty rancher on me to get me out of the way? No, thank you. If I wanted such a man, don't you think I could find him on my own?” Her voice had reached a fevered pitch, and she wanted to throw something. Nothing was in easy reach, so she flung herself at him and beat his chest with her fists. “You owed me something! An explanation at the very least! We were friends, weren't we?”

Tears now leaked from her eyes as his arms came around her, partly, she assumed, to end the assault. She felt the tension go out of his body, and she melted into him.

“I'm sorry, Val,” he whispered. “But I couldn't risk it. Can't you understand that I was dying? I never wanted to work for my father, but they didn't care about that. If I'd had to stay there, the man you thought I was going to be would have never been.”

“But you didn't try,” she mumbled against his chest, most of her fury dying down. “You don't even know.”

“I do know. I may be selfish, and quite possibly a coward when it comes to my parents, but can't you see that I belong here? I would have hated that life, and we wouldn't have been happy together in the end.”

Being so close to him had a calming effect on her. The warmth of his embrace gave her courage like she'd never had. Impulsively, she slid her hands up around his neck and pulled his face toward hers, kissing him with five years of pent-up hope and expectations.

A small groan escaped his lips, and he returned the kiss for a moment, but then broke away and took several steps back. The momentary gentleness he'd showed her disappeared in an instant.

“What was that supposed to prove?” he asked angrily. “That I find you attractive? Fine. I do, more than I'd care to admit, but I can't make a life with you in New York. If you were sincere about staying out here...” His voice trailed off and he looked as though he wished he could take the words back.

“You'd marry me?” she huffed, sparks flying from her eyes. “So you admit it. You'd love me if I weren't a high society lady? But all that changes because of the clothes I wear or the house I live in?”

He released a frustrated sigh. “It's so much more than that and you know it.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head but maintaining eye contact. “I don't know it at all. I think if love is real, it exists no matter where you live or what you do. Either you love me or you don't, Thomas. I'll give you one more week to decide. After that, I'm moving on. I've spent too much of my life waiting for you. I won't waste anymore.”

With bravery she didn't feel, Valerie turned on her heel and stalked out of the barn. Once she was back in her room, she flung herself onto the bed and allowed herself one last cry over Thomas Wellington. After this, she would shed no more tears for him.