Wild and Wrangled (Rebel Blue Ranch, #4)

by Lyla Sage

“History is just one part of that analogy, Cam. Sure, you’ve got the sun and the storm clouds, but what about the dirt under your feet? The rain on your skin? Fresh air in your lungs?” The fresh air in my lungs. “So if everything about you and Dusty is starting to feel bigger, maybe that’s because it is. It’s not just about your history anymore because you’ve started to build on and around it. Your history is still part of this picture, but it’s less important than where you are now. There’s a reason that rearview mirrors are small and windshields are big.” I dropped my head onto my forearms and sighed. “You’re very wise,” I mumbled into the table. I felt one of Amos’s weathered hands rub at my shoulder. “That’s what they tell me,” he said, and then he tapped on my head a few times. I lifted it, so I could look him in the eye. The gleam in his eye was gone. Now, he looked almost somber. “And I know it’s different, but if I had a second chance to be with the person who felt like the sun and rain and air and everything, I would take it without another thought.” I put my hand over the one that was on my shoulder. “It is different,” I said quietly. “But it all comes down to the same thing,” Amos said. “A mark on your heart and soul that refuses to fade, no matter how much time passes or how much you think you’ve changed.” I thought of my “T” tattoo, Dusty’s physical mark on me. But Amos was right; this mark went a lot deeper. Amos continued: “People, and our feelings for them,...