Lucy got up early enough the next morning that she was able to slip past the slumbering Reverend and make her way back to her room before the town could get up to see the redheaded waitress leaving the town parson's house in her night clothes. She did manage to make the bed before she left, as a common courtesy.

That whole day, Lucy didn't even see Timothy walk buy, but she figured that was because even the life of a small-town holy man was busy. From what she gathered, Lucy understood that Timothy had duties to travel out to the homes of ill congregation members, to look into the physical upkeep of the church building, and to even travel out to the Indian reservations on occasion. Lucy herself was busy at Grace's cafe for most of the morning and afternoon anyway.

She did wonder, however, what Timothy would have to say after their rather heated night together. In the end, it was only some touching, but the carnal thrills that went along with it, at least for Lucy, weren't exactly virtuous. Granted, things for women were a bit more sexually liberal in the slums of New York, but even then, the worst Lucy had heard about were the teenage orphan girls who'd go uptown at night and sleep with the local politicians while their wives were blissfully ignorant. Those girls always seemed to have more money to spend than the less frivolous children. One of Lucy's peers had once suggested she was attractive enough to 'go uptown,' but Lucy refused to even consider it.

As it turned out, Timothy wasn't shy around her after the fact, like she'd expected. In fact, it almost seemed to have the opposite effect. That night of affection had opened a previously-unopened door, and the result was that Timothy seemed to be freer and more open-minded. He also became more of a charismatic suitor. He began surprising Lucy with little gifts and tokens, and whisking her off on romantic rides in his carriage during the times of day when the sky was four or five different colors, none of them blue. More than a few times, Lucy would be cleaning dishes only to turn around and find Timothy standing behind her, holding a single rose or a small box of sweets.

Though they didn't try getting heated in the same way as they had before, and thus walking a fine line between respect and dishonorable, they did allow themselves some physical intimacy. Lucy particularly enjoyed one Saturday evening when Timothy took her for a horseback riding lesson. Lucy could barely get control of her mare, and she ended up being tossed from the horse onto a pile of leaves in the middle of the woods. Timothy, of course, leaped off of his horse and ran to her side, asking if she was hurt.

Lucy wasn't hurt, but having Timothy hovering over her, as close as he was, drove her to yank his body down to hers via a strong tug on his white collar. They kissed on the soft ground in each other's embrace for a long time, nearly an hour, and didn't even notice their horses running off on their own.

At one point, during a midday lull in the dining crowd about a week after that passionate night in Timothy's home, Grace and Lucy began talking about Lucy's life in New York.

"You make it sound like folks out there are a lot more tolerant of different creeds and colors," Grace said in a low voice, though not for lack of amazement.

Lucy shrugged. "Yes and no," she said.

"What do you mean by that?" Grace asked, carelessly stirring a pot of chicken dumpling soup with a metal ladle.

Lucy thought a moment. "Well, New York City has so many different immigrants coming through from many different countries, I guess race-mixing is just something that comes naturally. Even in the Irish sections of Brooklyn we'd have some Jewish families, and Italians and Poles. But a lot of gangs formed from different neighborhoods, and there would be a lot of drunken brawls between some of the different groups. I even saw a duel fought with pistols once."

"Good Lord!" Grace gasped.

"No one died," Lucy assured her. "But an Italian got shot in the knee. He never came around again."

"I would imagine not," Grace tsked. "Why can't we all just get along?"

Lucy shrugged. "Politics."

Grace smiled tenderly at the girl. "Speaking of getting along...I hear you're beginning to really get along with the Reverend. How is that going?"

Lucy blushed, after which Grace put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I didn't mean to be intrusive if that's going too far!"

Lucy smiled and shook her head. "I think I have some...strong feelings for him."

"Do you think there will be some wedding bells ringing soon?" Grace grinned.

Lucy was about to answer in the affirmative when a voice called out behind her.

"Miss Greene?"

She turned to see with was Louise Chambers, dressed in grey, her perfect curly blonde hair tucked neatly under a bonnet. It made Lucy realize her ribbon had fallen out of her hair at some point during the busy afternoon, so her unruly red tresses were flying about freely, making her look like a ragamuffin. Lucy suddenly felt very insecure.

"Are you here for lunch?" Grace asked, her usually warm, melodic voice going cold.

Louise shook her head. "No, I was actually looking for Miss Greene to discuss our business proposition."

Business proposition?

"Oh!" Lucy suddenly recalled. "The offer!"

"I need to know soon," Louise insisted. "My train will be here in five days,you know."

Suddenly, something Lucy hadn't thought of before entered her head: a dilemma.

On one hand, Lucy had a developing romance with the best man she'd known so far in her life. And despite getting off to a rocky start, things were growing in feeling, passion, but also in stability and seriousness. Lucy felt like she'd known the Reverend for the majority of her life, and the idea of leaving him felt like a punch to the heart.

On the other side, California still waited for her. And what lied beyond the coast? Where else could Lucy travel to? How many cultures could she experience? If she chose to follow the sun, the Reverend could not follow. He was anchored to Colorado Springs and his flock. The people needed him here. They loved him here. She could never ask him to come along. It was selfish.

Then again, Lucy's doubts about her ability to maintain a household, raise children, and be a polite, submissive, parson's wife nudged her thinking. For as much as she loved Timothy, what were his real expectations of her if they were to marry? Lucy had said before on several occasions that she wanted a partnership that entailed equal responsibility in the household chores and child-rearing. Timothy, in his life, probably didn't expect the same lifestyle.

"I...I don't know," Lucy muttered. Louise's shoulders dropped.

"Miss Greene," she said with concern. "It's been nearly a month, in case you haven't noticed. When I met you, I said my train would be here withing three weeks. I scheduled a later train to give you more time, especially after I'd heard about your...tryst...with Tim-Reverend Johnson."

"Tryst?" Lucy asked, offended. "He and I are courting." Lucy puffed out her chest and sat up straight, like a bird showing off its' plume in order to appear dominant.

"So I hear," Louise mumbled. "Nonetheless, if you're going to refuse me, please let me know now."

"Now?" Lucy sighed. "You're catching me off guard, I'll admit."

"Listen, dear," Louise said, leaning in as if she was about to expose some secret. "You have been getting to know him...but do you know what he wants? Really wants?"

Lucy bit her lip.

"A docile young housewife. A woman to conceive, carry, and bear his children, and to follow them around, cleaning up after them until they fly the nest." Louise said all of this as if it wasn't a big surprise. "And while we haven't gotten to know one another as well as we should have," she continued after a moment's pause, "I know more about you than you think. You aren't meant to stay around here forever."

Lucy looked off to the side, lost for a moment in thought.

"You belong to the city," Louise described. "Born in New York, meant to see the world. Don't deny that you've felt some wanderlust."

"Yes, I have," Lucy conceded.

"How could you thrive here?" Louise mused. "You need tall buildings, exciting sounds, the smells of foreign foods flooding your nose. The world is a lot larger than Colorado Springs...and you can't take Timothy with you."

Lucy recollected the city in her mind. Her home, her life. Colorado Springs was an odd place. The emptiness, the dusty roads, the eternal quiet that sometimes made her ears ring...compared to the closeness, the civilization, the culture mixes, and the potential for every new day to bring adventure or disaster. Maybe she did belong to the city. Maybe she was meant to follow the rails.

But what was all of that without Timothy?

"I...I have to decide now?" Lucy sighed. Louise gently bit her lip, as if she had to think very hard.

"I'll give you until Friday, the day before I leave," Louise agreed. "Settle your...affairs. Then, when you meet me at the station, I will have your train ticket."

Lucy nodded silently. Louise smiled and patted Lucy's knee condescendingly.

"Don't decide your life based on a man. I nearly made that mistake once. Don't make a choice that will force you to look behind you."

Lucy shot up and walked away from the cafe, deciding to go back to Timothy ask consult him. But on her way, she happened to bump into Preston, holding a group of documents. Of all the people for her to see next...

"Lucile," Preston said, grinning his dirt-eating grin as if there was no awkwardness between them. Lucy pouted.

"I have to see Timothy," she said defiantly. Preston nodded.

"Of course," he said softly, moving aside for her. Lucy began to move on when she heard him call out from behind her.

"I know you have a choice...a difficult one," he said. Lucy stopped in her track. Preston paused a moment as she turned to face him.

"If you had picked me, you wouldn't have that choice. I can take you wherever on Earth you wish to go...and not just California. I could show you Paris. London. China."

"Oh, how? You have a business here," Lucy said angrily. Preston moved in close...too close.

"But I can transfer my business to any bank in the world," he said. "I would take you to the moon if that were possible." His whisper was soft, almost sincere. "And," he continued. "It isn't too late, Lucile. I still feel passionately for you. And I have more to give you than a simple man of the cloth," he reasoned. Suddenly, Preston began to move in dangerously close...and he boldly wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned down to her ear. "Think of the mountains of Switzerland we could climb together. Think of the-"

"-enough!" Lucy yelled, a sudden rage flying through her blood.

Instinctively, she let her hand fly across Preston's cheek, causing his head to flip to the size. He raised his hand in surprise to his quickly-reddening cheek. His jaw hung open. A few gasps of surprise from the direction of Grace's cafe rang out.

"I said no before, and I mean it! Leave me alone!" Lucy hissed.

"How dare you?" Preston muttered, still too shocked to be angry. "Raising your hand to a man who is trying to confess his feelings for-"

"-I'll whip you again, only my hand will be closed this time, if you don't back down," Lucy said, standing defensively. Preston glared at her, physically and emotionally hurt. More than anything, however, his pride was hurt. "I. Said. No."

"Lucile-"

"-you want to test me?" Lucy barked. "You, more than anyone, should know that you don't mess with an Irish girl from Brooklyn!"

Preston didn't speak again. Lucy took three steps backward before turning on her heel and jogging in the direction of the church.