“From the corner of her eye, she watched Clay walk to his wagon, where he'd find no shade.Isolated.Alone.How simple it would be to prepare him a plate and walk to the wagon to give it to him.How difficult to step into his world of loneliness.”

“Please," Meg whispered. "I don't want any trouble here."He released his hold on her. As though she might say something further, she parted her lips slightly. Then she walked out of the church."Touch her again, and I'll kill you," Daniel said.Clay wondered if he should tell her brother that he'd be doing him a favor if he killed him… because his heart had just died.”

“He was lying in bed with the woman he loved . . . a woman he couldn't make love to. He closed his eyes. More than any­thing in this world, he wanted this woman to be happy. He'd give her anything, do anything to make her happy. Even if it made his own life hell.”

“Within the shadows of honor, courage often walks in silence.-Engraved on the monument Clay built”

“If he wasn't angry, he certainly did a good imitation. His voice was clipped and as hard as stone. She wrung her hands together. "I love you. Clay.""No, you don't."Meg felt as though he'd just slapped her. "Yes, I do. When you leave this town, I'll go with you."Narrowing his eyes, he studied her. "Will you marry me?""Yes.""Will you give me children?""If I can. Kirk and I were never able to conceive, but if I can have children, I want to have yours.""In this town that we move to, wherever it is, will you walk down the street with me?""Of course.""Holding my hand?""Yes.""And the hands of my children?""Yes."He unfolded his arms and took a step toward her. She wanted to fling herself into his embrace, but something hard in his eyes stopped her."And what happens, Mrs. Warner, when someone you know rides through town and points at me and calls me a yellow-bellied coward? What will you do then? Will you let go of my hand and take my children to the other side of the street? Will you pretend that you haven't kissed me, that you haven't lain with me beneath the stars?" With disgust marring his features, he turned away. "You think I'm a coward. Go home.""I don't think that. I love you."He spun around. "You don't believe in that love, you don't believe in me.""Yes, I do."He stalked toward her. She backed into the corner and bent her head to meet his infuriated gaze."How strongly do you believe in our love?" he asked, his voice ominously low. "If they threatened to strip off your clothes unless you denied our love, would you deny our love?"He gave her no chance to respond, but continued on, his voice growing deeper and more ragged, as though he were dredging up events from the past."If they wouldn't let you sleep until you denied our love, would you deny our love so you could lay your head on a pillow?"If they stabbed a bayonet into your backside every time your eyes drifted closed, would you deny our love so your flesh wouldn't be pierced?"If they applied a hot brand to your flesh until you screamed in agony, would you deny our love so they'd take away the iron?"If they placed you before a firing squad, would you say you didn't love me so they wouldn't shoot you?"He stepped back and plowed his hands through his hair. "You think I'm a coward. You don't think I have the courage to stand beside you and risk the anger of your father. I'd die before I turned away from anyone or anything I believed in. You won't even walk by my side."He looked the way she imagined soldiers who had lost a battle probably looked: weary, tired of the fight, disillusioned."You don't believe in me," he said quietly. "How can you believe in our love?”

“Has any woman ever touched you?" she asked as she splayed her fingers over his thigh."No.""Do you want a woman to touch you?""No."She stilled, and Clay pushed himself up. He cradled her check in his palm. "I want you to touch me.”

“Stay."The strangled word, spoken in anguish, tore at her heart, ripped through her resolve. She swiped at the tears raining over her cheeks and slowly turned, forcing the painful truth past her lips. "I can't stay. I can no longer give you what you want. I can't give you a son." Dallas stepped off the veranda and extended a bouquet of wildflowers toward her. "Then stay and give me what I need." Her heart lurched at the abundance of flowers wilting within his smothering grasp. She shook her head vigorously. "You don't need me. There are a dozen eligible women in Leighton who would happily give you a son and within the month there will be at least a dozen more—" "I'll never love any of them as much as I love you. I know that as surely as I know the sun will come up in the morning." Her breath caught, her trembling increased, words lodged in her throat. He loved her? She watched as he swallowed."I know I'm not an easy man. I don't expect you to ever love me, but if you'll tolerate me, I give you my word that I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy—"Quickly stepping forward, she pressed her shaking fingers against his warm lips. "My God, don't you know that I love you? Why do you think I'm leaving? I'm leaving because I do love you—so much. Dallas, I want you to have your dream, I want you to have your son."Closing his eyes, he laid his roughened hand over hers where it quivered against his lips and pressed a kiss against the heart of her palm."I can't promise that I won't have days when I'll look toward the horizon and feel the aching emptiness that comes from knowing we'll never have a child to pass our legacy on to…"Opening his eyes, he captured her gaze. "But I know the emptiness you'll leave behind will eat away at me every minute of every day."-Dallas and Dee”