Troy didn't say a word to Dietrich when they headed back to the ranch for the night. He was still stunned that he had managed to open up to Dietrich about some of his troubles. And it didn't take much, Troy thought. Years ago, that wouldn't have been possible. Now, after having been open with Shauna and making an effort to not hide everything, it was… easier for things to come out, and Troy wasn't sure he liked that.

When they returned to the house, Troy showed Dietrich the guest bedroom before taking a quick shower to get the last of the day's sweat off. He then left the bathroom, and found Dietrich wasn't in the guest room. It was still a little early for bed, so Troy headed downstairs to see what Dietrich was up to. He found Dietrich in the kitchen, cutting another slice of cake.

"More dessert?" Troy asked.

"Just a little something before bed," Dietrich replied. "Why? Do you want some?"

"No, I'm good." Troy leaned against the doorway, watching Dietrich cover the rest of the cake.

"Is there something you need?" Dietrich asked.

"No, just… wondering if you needed anything."

"Not at the moment. What about you? You are acting like you want something." Dietrich put a forkful of cake in his mouth. "Is it about what we discussed on the walk?"

"I'm not sure what else there is to discuss about that. We both have nightmares. We acknowledged that we both have nightmares. What more is there to talk about?"

Dietrich shrugged. "I feel there is more."

"More in terms of what? What we dream about?" Troy paused before saying anything more. He wasn't sure it was a good idea to bring up that Dietrich was directly responsible for one of his recurring nightmares—being blinded.

"There is that, and there is also our pasts. What got us here?"

Troy nodded. "I don't want to overcomplicate this, though."

"Hitch and Tully had that difficulty. They focused too much on avoiding things that would upset me, instead of just building a relationship with me."

"I won't do that—focus on not upsetting you, I mean. I have noticed a huge difference between… now and a year ago. You seem… more confident. You're not starving yourself anymore. You have things that you enjoy doing now. You've even offered to help me out with getting an engagement ring for Shauna. You have no idea how much I appreciate that." Troy went into the kitchen to squeeze Dietrich's shoulder.

Dietrich grunted at him. "Not while I am eating, please."

"Sorry." Troy stepped away. He paused at the kitchen sink and looked out the window. The sun had sunk completely below the western horizon. "So… are you going right to bed after this?"

"I suppose." Dietrich set his empty plate by the sink, and looked out the window as well. "Checking to see if the chickens are breaking out again?"

"They better not be. I made sure that damn hole in the screen was blocked," Troy said. "If they manage to break out again, I don't know what I'll do."

"I think by that point, we should assume Shauna's chickens are possessed."

"Yeah. I wouldn't doubt that for a second." Troy gave a look to the shadow that was the chicken coop in the yard. He could hear the chickens, but nothing that sounded like the birds planning another mass breakout. He then turned to Dietrich. "Alright. I'm off to bed. Feel free to get any food or drinks during the night. Just don't eat all my honey."

Dietrich gave him a lopsided smirk. "I make no promises. Good night, Troy."

"Good night." Troy looked over his shoulder once at Dietrich as he turned to leave the kitchen. The skinny German was still at the window, his expression becoming a little distant. Troy was tempted to ask if everything was okay, but something told him to just leave him be for now. He headed upstairs, hoping to have a dreamless sleep.

His sleep wasn't dreamless. Troy saw himself stuck under an overturned vehicle. Pain dug deep into his chest, stabbing his lungs with every breath. He looked down at himself, seeing he wasn't in his usual plain uniform. He was in a German tunic, one he somehow recognized as being Dietrich's. As he became more aware of his situation, more and more pain began flowing through him. He wanted to struggle and pull himself out, but couldn't seem to find the strength. Wind howled around him, blowing sand in every direction. He wanted to cry out for help, but no sound could come out of his mouth. Only one thought stuck out, but no matter how badly he wanted to say it—scream it—he couldn't. Don't leave me.

Troy awoke with a start, hugging his chest. He managed to breathe heavily, without pain. Relief flooded him when he saw he wasn't trapped under a vehicle, but his heart was still pounding in terror with what he had witnessed. When his heart began to slow down, Troy turned to the clock on his nightstand. It was only two in the morning. He sighed heavily, and got out of bed, cold sweat still running down his bare chest and back. He tried to be as quiet as possible when he left the room and opened the door to the guest bedroom. Dietrich was fast asleep, looking completely undisturbed by any nightmares. Satisfied, Troy left, closing the door.

He managed to get back to sleep, and woke up again several hours later to the savory smell of sausage gravy being cooked. She actually did it, Troy thought. He left the bed and got dressed, hearing Shauna snapping, "Quit taking samples of that! It's not done and neither are the biscuits! Go on! Shoo!"

Uh-oh. Troy grinned while heading downstairs. He peered into the kitchen, seeing Shauna holding a rolling pin and waving it quite threateningly at Dietrich, who was laughing nervously.

"Okay, Shauna, I apologize," Dietrich said.

"I'll accept your apology as long as you stay away from the gravy until it's done!" Shauna lowered the rolling pin when she saw Troy, and her anger swiftly melted into adoration. "Good morning, Sam."

"Good morning, sweetheart." Somehow, Troy felt completely safe walking over to Shauna while she was still holding the rolling pin. "How are you?"

"Doing well. How are you?" She set the rolling pin down on the counter to give Troy a hug and a kiss.

"Good. Happy to see you." Troy kissed Shauna's forehead. "What's all the commotion?"

The angry expression came back, and Troy suddenly felt the need to keep an eye on where that rolling pin was. Shauna pointed at Dietrich. "He won't stop taking little spoonfuls of gravy from the pan!"

Troy looked at Dietrich. "Come on, I thought you were better than that."

"Apparently, he's not," Shauna muttered. She pulled out of Troy's loving embrace to keep stirring the gravy.

"Well, I'll keep an eye on him while I make coffee." Troy looked out the kitchen window. "The chickens are supposed to be out, right?"

"Yes. I fed them and let them out."

"I had a feeling. They're acting… normal."

Shauna sighed. "The chickens aren't—"

"That bad. I know, sweetheart." Troy filled the coffeepot in the sink.

"Would you like a taste of the gravy, Sam?"

"I would. Thank you."

Shauna picked up a clean wooden spoon and dipped it in the gravy before handing it to Troy. "What do you think? More or less pepper?"

"I think it's good the way it is. That's perfect, actually. Reminds me of Tully's, but it was made by you—" Troy gave Shauna another kiss on the forehead, "so it's even better."

"I appreciate that, Sam. I'm nowhere near as good as Tully, though. I can't make fried chicken like he can."

"But can you make fried chicken, period?" Dietrich asked.

"I can, but it never comes out as good."

"Still better than no chicken."

Troy finished preparing the coffee, then stood and waited for it to drip down into the waiting pot. Shauna slid the tray of biscuits in the oven, then went back to stirring the gravy. Dietrich stood by, patiently waiting for breakfast. The timer for the oven went off about ten minutes later, and the delightful smell of the freshly baked biscuits burst into the kitchen when Shauna opened the oven.

"Alright," she said. "Let these cool, and then you can eat."

Troy poured three cups of coffee, and handed one to Dietrich before adding cream and sugar to another. "I know just how you like yours, Shauna," he said.

"Do you?" Shauna asked.

"Yeah. Little bit of cream and two spoonfuls of sugar."

"That's right." Shauna poked Troy's right cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart." Troy smiled at her before glancing at Dietrich. "Okay, I think he's about to start drooling."

Shauna sighed. "Alright, Hans, get a plate." She watched Dietrich scoop several biscuits and a rather generous helping of gravy on his plate, then served herself and Troy. "There's plenty. Don't be afraid to have more if you want."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Troy said. He thought back to his conversation with Dietrich the day before about going out to Casper to see if they had the perfect engagement ring. "Hey, uh… would you mind if I take Dietrich around town today?"

"No, not at all. He is visiting after all, and he's your friend, so you should be enjoying your time together. I can do whatever you need done today."

"Thanks." Troy took his plate and went to sit near Dietrich. "After breakfast, do you want to come with me into Douglas?"

"Sure," Dietrich replied, not looking up from his food.

"Alright. Take your time, though. No rush." Troy took a sip of his coffee.

"How did everything come out?" Shauna asked.

"It's very good," Troy said. "Maybe we can do pancakes tomorrow?"

"I haven't made pancakes in years, Sam."

"So? They're easy, and I have pancake mix, so that makes it easier."

"No," Dietrich said, "that makes it lazier."

Troy rolled his eyes. "Which would you rather do, sweetheart? Homemade or mix pancakes?"

"I'd like to try doing homemade," Shauna replied.

Dietrich smirked at Troy, who glared at him and mumbled, "Eat your breakfast," before messily tousling his hair.

Dietrich offered to help Shauna clean up once breakfast was finished, while Troy freshened up for their trip. He dried dishes while Shauna washed and rinsed. Conversation was scarce until they were nearly finished, when Shauna said, "What're you and Sam planning on doing in Douglas?"

"I do not think there is a plan," Dietrich replied. "He just wants to show me around."

"Okay." Shauna was quiet for a moment. "He hasn't said anything about proposing, has he?"

"No. Even if he did, why would I tell you? It is supposed to be a surprise."

"Has he told you?"

"I am not telling you."

Shauna made a pouty face. "I'll get a hint out of one of you somehow."

"Good luck."

Things went silent again. Shauna rinsed the last utensil, the spatula she used to stir the gravy, and handed it to Dietrich. "Do you like cinnamon rolls, Hans?"

"I do," Dietrich said. "With walnuts, and a lot of glaze. Why?"

"Oh, just curious."

Dietrich gave her a curious look. Her intentions were all too clear, but Dietrich stopped himself before he told Shauna that he knew what she was planning. Let her think that she can bribe Troy's plan out of me. Poor thing will be quite disappointed, but I am not spoiling the surprise, no matter what she does.

Troy stepped into the kitchen. "You ready, Dietrich?"

"Just about." Dietrich finished drying the spatula, then set it in a utensil rack near the stove. After putting on his boots and making sure his watch was tight enough around his left wrist, Dietrich followed Troy outside. There were no clouds that day, and it being late spring meant each day counting down to summer would be warmer than the next. It was pleasantly warm, nothing like the dry, intense heat of North Africa.

Troy got in the driver's seat of his truck, and was rolling down the window while Dietrich got in the passenger side. "So, is this the truck you got a speeding ticket in shortly after you got it?" Dietrich asked.

"Yes, it is," Troy said. "For the record, that is the only ticket I've ever gotten in my entire life." He looked over his shoulder while slowly backing out of the driveway. "How about you? You ever been ticketed?"

"No. At the moment, I do not even have a vehicle." Dietrich looked out the window as they began heading down the empty road toward Douglas.

Troy kept one hand on the steering wheel while resting his elbow just out the open window. "Okay, confession time, Dietrich—we're not going to Douglas."

"Where are we going, then?" Dietrich asked.

"We're going to Casper, to look at rings."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Like you said yesterday, this is the perfect excuse. She won't suspect a thing."

"I suppose I should tell you that Shauna is trying to get answers out of me in regards to your surprise. Believe me, I feel bad for lying, but under no circumstances am I spoiling the surprise."

"Good. I knew I could count on you."

Dietrich glanced at Troy, then went back to staring out the window at the empty wilderness around them. That is certainly something I never expected to hear him say to me. "I can count on you." He can, but… after everything, I am surprised he does.

"It's a little over twenty miles from here to Casper," Troy said. "Twenty miles of open road, and it's just you and me, Dietrich."

"Do you have any idea how terrifying that would have sounded six years ago?"

"Oh, I know, but a lot's changed in six years. I've been looking forward to doing something like this with you, actually."

"Even now, that sounds… strange." Dietrich didn't say anything more. If Troy was really looking forward to this, he didn't want to ruin it.

"I'm not going to deny, it does sound a bit strange, but we're trying to make it not feel strange anymore."

Dietrich kept quiet. He tried not to think about how different things would have been all those years ago. For a brief moment, he feared Troy was going to pull a gun on him and take him prisoner.

He was in a vehicle. He couldn't get away.

"Allied lines are twenty miles away. Almost there, then the war will really be over for you, Dietrich."

Icy winds battered the vehicle with snow. The vehicle itself didn't offer much protection against the elements. Dietrich had already been shivering for the whole ride from Hammelburg to Belgium, but the shivering worsened when Troy turned around in the front passenger seat to point his M1911 at the captain.

"After everything I did in Augsburg, and after I asked you to get me out of Germany, you still think it is appropriate to treat me like this?" Dietrich asked, unable to mask his shivering.

"Not taking any chances," Troy said.

"You know me."

"No, I don't. You said it yourself."

Dietrich couldn't argue with that. He stayed put, glaring at Troy the whole time.

"I do know you won't try to escape from a moving vehicle. That'd be—" Troy stopped himself, blood draining from his face.

"That would be what?"

"Nothing. Not important."

Dietrich emerged from his flashback, and turned to Troy. "When you were taking me back to Belgium, do you remember telling me that I would not try to escape from a moving vehicle?"

"Vaguely," Troy said.

"You were going to say, 'that would be suicide,' were you not?"

Troy was quiet. The gleeful look on his face over going on a long drive quickly faded. "Yeah. Yeah, I was. I didn't, because I was starting to fear that's where you were headed."

"And you were correct. All along, you were correct." Dietrich looked back at the window.

"I wish I hadn't been. Regardless of everything that happened, you didn't deserve to go through that."

"Even though I blinded you?"

Troy went silent again. He let out a heavy sigh. "Even though you blinded me. You were doing what you felt you had to do."

"That is no excuse. I should not have sunk that low."

"I did forgive you, remember? It's okay, Dietrich. Don't… Don't keep beating yourself up over stuff like that. Let's just… focus on getting that ring for Shauna."

Dietrich wondered if he touched on something he shouldn't have. He kept quiet, staring out the window. It really was vast, empty, and wild out here in Wyoming. Dietrich couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he was able to get his own land here. He could be completely alone. Actually, no, I would not. Troy would bother me every chance he got. So much for that daydream. Dietrich faced forward when they began driving through Douglas, but when they stopped at a traffic light—though Dietrich wondered how exactly one defined "traffic" in a place this small—he looked around at the shops and restaurants. "I take it this is not a very tourist-heavy place anytime of the year?"

"Actually, Douglas is the home of the jackalope," Troy said with a grin.

"The what?"

"Jackalope. It's a rabbit with antlers. Magic critter. People come from all over the country to try and get a glimpse of them."

"Oh. Fascinating. Have you seen one?"

"Not yet. Unless I have and just couldn't see the antlers. There are a lot of rabbits that hang around the ranch, especially in the evening."

"In Germany, we have a dish called hasenpfeffer—rabbit stew. My grandparents would make it every year as part of Christmas Eve dinner. I still have memories of going to their home, back when we were still living in Kiel, and the first thing you would smell when you entered their home was that stew."

"Is it good?"

"It depends on who makes it. My grandmother had a habit of adding lemon juice—a lot of lemon juice. I did not particularly care for that."

"Did you get along with your grandparents?"

"I did not get to see them very often. We moved to Munich when I was still quite young. I had so few memories involving them that I never really thought about them. Aunt Miriam told me once that Christmas with them used to be a fantastic experience, but as time went on, people grew up, and the family began splintering for various reasons. It became less… whimsical and more of a strangely somber affair. The one thing that stood out to me was the fact that their house was very dark. My mother told me not to go poking around where I did not belong, so I had to stay in the dining room or the parlor at all times. Well, as you can probably guess, there was a year when I did not." Dietrich smiled a little as he recalled every sensation that he felt that particular night so many years ago. "I snuck into my grandfather's study, the one place I really was not allowed to go. The only light in that room, and in the rest of the house apart from the dining room and parlor, came from candles that were set in the windowsills."

"Sounds kinda creepy."

"I can see how it would seem that way. My grandfather would have a cigar in that room every day. That was the only thing you could smell in that room. I could hear the voices of my family from all the way down the hall, and somewhere in the house was a record, playing German Christmas carols. It was very quiet, but if you really paid attention, you could hear it. It was snowing out, so I leaned against the window, my face pretty close to the candles, mind you, and watched the snow. Just me in that dark little room, listening to faint Christmas music while the adults were talking about stuff I would not understand for many years. That moment was special. Very simple, but… special."

"Probably because you got to enjoy it by yourself."

"There was that, but there was also something surreal about it. It stuck with me, and I have seen that dark house lit only by candles in dreams It has been a recurring dream for many years, appearing every few months, as if just to remind me that the memory is still there. Sometimes, it feels comforting. Other times, it feels like a taunt to remind me that the innocence of my early life is long gone."

Troy was quiet for a moment, glancing down at the steering wheel, then returning his gaze to the road. He drew in a breath, acting like he was about to say something, but released it and remained silent.

Dietrich looked at Troy. "Whatever you wish to say, go ahead and say it."

"You sure? I don't want to spend your whole trip talking about your depression."

"Just say what you need to say, Troy."

"Alright, alright." Troy paused again. "What I was going to say was, even if you're not a kid anymore, and burdened with… everything that's happened over the last few years, that doesn't mean you can't have anything that makes you happy, or anything that makes you feel like how you did as a kid."

"I am aware of that. I have been trying over the last year to find things that make me happy. Well… what I should say is that I have found things, but the challenge is being able to hold on."

"You know you can visit any of us if you need someone to talk to."

"I do know that, but it is still hard to believe that… the only people who want to include me in their lives are the same ones who played a hand in nearly destroying me."

"That's what we were told to do. At any other point, I don't think we would've tried to hurt you. I mean, if the war didn't happen, we never would've met at all."

"Indeed. I had never met someone like you before, but I cannot see my younger self being friends with you. You have far too much energy. But… here we are."

"Yeah."

Dietrich let the conversation end there. He felt a little safer, less afraid Troy was going to turn on him. There was still some discomfort, being thousands of kilometers away from home, in a place he had never been before, with a man whose job it once was to try and kill him. Despite having been vulnerable, there was still a part of Dietrich that didn't want to let his guard down too much.

Troy had hoped Dietrich would have more to say during their drive to Casper, but he didn't want to push too much. He knew getting Dietrich to be more open would be a bigger challenge for him than it was for Tully and Hitch. Tully had said that it took a lot of patience, something Troy struggled with at times. He was willing to try, though.

He knew they were approaching Casper when they were no longer passing by farms and instead passing by homes that gradually grew closer and closer together. For the first time since leaving Douglas, Troy had to bring the truck to a stop when they came to a four-way intersection. When he was confident no one was coming, Troy kept going. He wasn't much for town or city driving, but he had been to Casper a handful of times and was fairly confident he knew what he was doing.

"Okay, Dietrich, keep an eye out for Criswell Jewelers," Troy said.

"You just passed it on your left," Dietrich replied.

Troy glared at him. "Are you serious or are you messing with me?"

Dietrich's expression was stoic. "I am being serious. You passed it."

Troy started cursing while looking for a place to turn around. Once he was headed back down the same street, he could hear Dietrich trying to suppress a laugh. "Oh, you—!" Troy pushed Dietrich's shoulder. "Jackass. We didn't pass it." He could still see Dietrich smiling in the corner of his eye. "Well, I'm glad you're happy!"

"The opportunity presented itself, and I took it."

"You certainly did." Troy sighed heavily. "Alright. Please, keep an eye out for Criswell Jewelers, and don't tell me I missed it when I haven't."

They were deep in the heart of Casper when Troy spotted a sign for the jeweler. He parked on the street, and searched his pockets for the note he had containing Shauna's ring size. Relief crashed over him when he found it in his jacket pocket. "That would've been a disaster," he said.

"What?" Dietrich asked.

"If I had forgotten Shauna's ring size."

"You mean you do not have it memorized?" Dietrich grinned.

"It's not something I think about all the time. For the record, I know when her birthday is, and the date we met, and I will remember our wedding anniversary."

"Alright. When is her birthday?"

"July eighteenth."

"When did you first meet?"

"August twelfth—wait, no, that was when I put out the ad looking for ranch hands. She came by on the fourteenth—stop laughing, Dietrich, that's an easy mistake to make!"

"Okay, okay—do you have an idea of when you want to get married?"

"I haven't even proposed yet!" Troy rubbed his face and sighed before getting out of the truck.

"If you must know," Dietrich said, "I do believe Shauna is in very capable hands with you, and she loves you just as much as you love her. Perhaps even more so."

"You want that, too, don't you?" Troy asked with a slight smile. "Someone to just love with every fiber of your being."

"Eventually. Shauna asked the same thing yesterday, and I admitted that while it is something I want, I feel that I need to fix myself first, and gain more control over my depression."

"If you don't mind me asking—" Troy paused, taking a breath, "did you ever love someone?"

"No."

"Being honest?"

"Completely honest. There was a young lady at the restaurant I used to play piano at in Munich who… left me very generous tips, and I could see the way she looked at me was definitely the expression of someone who was, ah, interested, romantically. About two weeks of this went by, and I started thinking a little more seriously about finding a way to approach this woman and ask if she wanted to meet me somewhere for dinner on a day I was not working. The night I felt I had the courage to do this, she came in—with her family."

"What's so bad about that?"

"Her father was a member of the SS."

"Oh." Troy's heart sank. "Well, that… must've stunk for you."

"That was something I did not want to get tangled in, and I overheard a conversation between them about whether or not I was a good match. Ultimately, it was decided that I did not 'look like I was from good enough stock.'"

Troy snorted. "You're a man, not a horse."

"After that, the tips stopped, and I never saw her again."

"I'm sorry that didn't work out for you. I mean, I'm glad you didn't get wrapped up in that, but… I'm sorry the only woman showing interest in you was someone who was tied to something you didn't agree with."

"That was well over ten years ago now. You have nothing to be sorry for. I did not think much about her afterward. My morality was far stronger, and when the war started, any sort of romantic relationship was never at the forefront of my mind, or even the back of it. It was not something I thought much about, and… eventually, I reached a point where I did not feel I even deserved one."

"It's certainly a big deal, but I see you being able to handle it."

"One day, maybe." Dietrich looked toward the door of the jeweler. "We should focus on your relationship."

Troy nodded. It was best not to continue this particular conversation. Weren't we just talking about finding things that make Dietrich happy? Now he's back to being withdrawn. That's not what we're trying to do here. He squeezed Dietrich's shoulder before going into the shop, and tried to focus on finding a ruby.

The shop was small and somewhat cluttered, but regardless of the angle of the sun, there was a constant glint of cut gems, protected behind the thickest, cleanest glass Troy had ever seen. He approached the counter, spotting a short man in glasses in a back room, fitting a gem in a necklace. It looked like delicate work. Troy leaned over to whisper to Dietrich, "Whatever you do, don't sneeze."

"Why?" Dietrich asked.

Troy pointed to the man in the other room.

"I would be more considered about you doing something to disrupt his concentration," Dietrich replied. "You are, after all, an expert."

Troy rolled his eyes, and stood with his hands in his pockets while waiting for the man to attend to them. In the meantime, Dietrich was wandering around the shop and studying the various gems and pieces of jewelry in every display case.

Eventually, the short man came out of the room, holding the necklace and putting a cigar in his mouth. "Good morning, sir," he said to Troy. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend, but I'd like something that's… a bit more special than your average diamond ring," Troy replied.

The man grinned. "Well, you've come to the right place, my friend. Custom rings are my specialty—every relationship is unique, and if you'd like your ring to reflect that, I'm happy to oblige. So—" he clapped his hands together, "what would you like?"

"Shauna—my girlfriend—her birthday is in July. I was thinking about getting a ruby instead of a diamond mounted."

"I like that. And what would you like for the ring itself? Do you see her with gold? Platinum? Silver?"

"Platinum."

"You're in luck. I just got a shipment of platinum rings in. Wait right here. I'll go get them."

"Thanks." Troy looked over at Dietrich. "See anything interesting?"

"Everything here is interesting," Dietrich replied.

Troy wasn't particularly interested in gems or jewelry. He saw them as "expensive rocks" and nothing more. Just before he could start rocking back and forth on his heels with impatience, the jeweler came back with a box containing four rows of five different rings.

"Each ring has its own design, and its own little patterns. All you have to do is choose," the jeweler said.

Troy was allowed to handle each other rings to get a closer look at them. So far none of them stood out to him as being the perfect fit for Shauna. Abruptly, he felt someone standing behind him, and jumped when he turned to see Dietrich looking over his shoulder at the rings.

"Sorry," Dietrich said. "Having trouble?"

"I haven't seen all of them," Troy replied, "so, I'm not in trouble yet."

Dietrich stayed where he was, studying the rings as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped and said, "No, this is your decision."

"What? You see something that you think will work?"

"Strange as this might seem, yes." Dietrich gestured to the last ring in the third row. "This one."

Troy picked up the ring Dietrich was pointing at. It was thinner and simpler than the others, with smaller engravings. The gem mount was neither too big nor too small. Troy turned it over in his hands, trying to picture the ring on Shauna. "You know… you're right. I think this one'll work."

"Good choice," the jeweler said. "What size is your girlfriend?"

Troy handed him the note.

"Alright. I will send a request for the correctly-sized ring, and have the ruby mounted for you. You're not in a rush, are you?"

"No."

"Perfect. Come back in a week. Everything should be ready for you by then. If not, could I call you?"

"Sure." Troy wrote down his telephone number on the same note sheet. "I appreciate the help."

"Not a problem. See you next week."

Troy patted Dietrich's shoulder before turning to leave the shop. "That was easy," he said.

"Very easy," Dietrich added. "Now what? We return to the ranch and wait a week?"

"Pretty much. Until then, nothing to Shauna. Whatever she does, do not tell her anything."

Dietrich nodded. "She will get nothing from me."

"Good. Let's go home."