“He picked up his knife and started carving again. He concentrated on the lines and planes of the wood to keep his mind from wandering too far into the past.He had his own wounds that refused to heal.”

“He wondered if his own child would like tohave a dog, then shook off the thought. He was yearsaway from having a child. He needed a wife first—andobtaining her would be far more trouble than obtaininga mistress. Here, he had yet to get a mistress.”

“He skidded to a dead halt and stared hard at Austin. The boy’s chin carried so many nicks from his first shave that it was a wonder he hadn’t bled to death. He was a year older than Houston had been when he’d last stood on a battlefield. Sweet Lord, Houston had never had the opportunity to shave his whole face; he’d never flirted with girls, wooed women, or danced through the night. He’d never loved. Not until Amelia. And he’d given her up because he’d thought it was best for her. Because he had nothing to offer her but a one-roomed log cabin, a few horses, a dream so small that it wouldn’t cover the palm of her hand. And his heart. His wounded heart.”

“In his world, there was right and wrong, good and evil. Hers contained no absolutes. Hers was a world of grays. Hers was what his was truly becoming. The irony didn’t escape him. At night, nothing was clear. Lines blurred. Shadows removed definitions.Her dreams led her to the darkest parts of London where he couldn’t follow and keep her safe. His dreams had ceased to exist long ago.”

“...Closing his eyes, he saw every smile that Rebecca had ever directed his way and knew a pang of regret. He would have liked to have held her in his arms one last time before he 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.”

“...When she'd skillfully turned it back towards the herd, Rebecca lifted an arm to wave at Jake, her smile vis­ible even from this distance. He felt a familiar tightening in his loins. How many times had he watched her ride across the Lazy A, experienced the same stirrings, and rid­den away so she'd never know what his true feelings were? He didn't have to ride away today. He could watch her graceful movements to his heart's content.”