Okay, if you're like me, then Valentine's Day totally sucks for you and reminds you of what you're missing out on. Which is why I don't like it. So, since I kept forgetting to do this, and to cheer you up in case your Valentine's Day sucked, lo and behold...A chapter!

And it's a pretty good one, though it's kinda short, but um, some issues are resolved...And some aren't.

Oh, and one thing about this fic: Sarah contradicts herself a lot...Of course, don't go around getting ideas, because it'll take a while for that to happen.

Uh, anyways...The chapter...

I hear the door to Sarah's room open and I carefully peek through my slightly open door. She is dressed and going downstairs, looking serious. I follow her stealthily. She's going to ask him. She stands at the kitchen door, gesturing for him to follow her. They walk into the parlor and I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I do.

"Do you own slaves?" She asks, sounding scared.

I already know the answer, mainly because I asked him that same question yesterday.

"Of course! Who doesn't, Sarah dear?" My namesake replies.

I wince. There is an eerie silence in the room.

"Well, I am sorry, James Raleigh, but I cannot marry you. Leave immediately," Sarah says, in a voice that sounds detached.

I smile and back away from the door. What luck! I got him to leave! And in two days with virtually no effort! Yay! Major Raleigh walks out, looking dejected. I almost feel sorry for him, but, hello, I hate him.

Sarah storms upstairs. I follow her, but today she's decided to lock her door. I go downstairs and return later.

I knock softly on Sarah's door.

"Sarah? Are you all right? It's dinnertime, and I'm worried about you. Aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten anything all day," I whisper, because now, I'm worried sick.

I hear a click and the door opens quietly. Sarah's back is towards me.

"Come in," Sarah whispers.

I shut the door behind me and walk up to her. I turn her to face me, but she looks down. I tilt her chin up (because I'm having a brave day today. I finally beat Jack in our daily race, which almost never happens) and look into her eyes. Those green orbs are rimmed with red.

Sarah was crying? Her lip's trembling. I never knew she cared so much about Major Raleigh. And I was the one who sent him away. Great.

Sarah starts sobbing and I try my best to comfort her. She's wrapping her arms around me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don't care.

"Why did he have to own slaves?" Sarah sobs.

She pounds against my chest with her fists. I ignore the pain and shush her.

"Sarah, you're going to be fine," I reply, hoping she takes my advice to heart.

She wrenches herself from my grasp and glares at me.

"No, James, I will not," Sarah cries, wiping furiously at her eyes.

I grab her hands to get her attention. I'm right up in her face.

"Why not, Sarah?" I ask boldly.

Sarah's eyes burn. They shoot me a smoldering glare. She drops my hands and plops facedown on her bed. She turns on her side, propping herself up with one arm, looking at me. She's still crying. The tears seem to come harder and she can barely say the next words.

"Because, I... James, I... He... I am in love with him!" Sarah blurts.

She covers her mouth and cries some more. My eyes are wide and I know that I'm shocked.

She. Loves. Him?

I sigh deeply, feeling guiltier. Why am I always so selfish?

Something occurs to me and I walk over and place a hand on her arm. She turns away from me.

"Sarah, come on, I'm sure another will be here by Tuesday," I joke, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the room.

She turns to me in a flash, eyes angry.

"First of all, James, he was the last one! Second of all, did you not just hear me say that I am in love with HIM?" Sarah snapped.

I'm speechless, for once in my life. She takes the opportunity to shove me off her bed. I get up, dusting myself off. I cross my arms across my chest. She could marry an American, you know.

"Sarah, you could, oh, I don't know, marry an American? Ever tried that?" I jeer, annoyed.

Sarah glares venomously at me and rolls her eyes.

"James, that's not funny. Don't you wonder why all the suitors Mother sends are British? It would not be proper for me to marry an American," Sarah replies, annoyed.

I give her a look. What, are Americans not as good as Brits?

"So you're telling me that even if you were in love with an American, you couldn't marry him?" I ask, incredulous.

Sarah wipes at the tears trickling down her face, sniffling softly. She snorts.

"I will not love an American," Sarah states bluntly.

I can't reply to that statement.

She starts crying again. I can't do a thing about it.

I walk over to Sarah, who has cried herself to sleep. It's fitting how now both of us are miserable.

I smooth her hair and lean down to kiss her on the forehead. She turns, however, and I wind up kissing the pillow. Even in sleep she eludes me. I sigh again and cover her with the blanket.

The guilt overwhelms me. I shouldn't have done this. I should just stop thinking about Sarah period.

I regret that I'm such an awful friend.

Which is why, as soon as possible, I'm going on assignment somewhere far away.

And a thought hits me suddenly.

I haven't ever seen Sarah that depressed. Not even when her Cousin Tom died or when she came back from Fort Trion.

That scares me.

- Loren ;*

I really appreciate reviews, by the way...