Soul Searching: A Sweetwater Peak Novel

by Lyla Sage

For the past three years, it had been covered by a tarp in a storage unit in Meadowlark—about two hours south of Sweetwater Peak—which I got to by hitching a ride with a nice couple who were on my flight from Portland to Jackson. They were going to some guest ranch in the area for a week.

I’ve never loved my family more than when I wasn’t living in the same town as them. Boundaries worked a hell of a lot better when there were thousands of miles between us.

It wasn’t creepy to stare at her if she was lurking outside my shop like a weirdo. I didn’t get a chance to look at her last night, but now I know she probably would’ve blinded me either way. I don’t know which one I would’ve preferred.

Part of me was realistic enough to realize that judging her based on her appearance, or worrying about what it would be like to live with her just because I thought she was pretty, was fairly lizard-brained. I refused to let the lizard brain win.

tried to talk to Elda, my most consistent companion, but I got nothing—not even when I took a scarier walk home or hopped on the back of some random guy’s motorcycle, which was very Bella Swan of me, I know, but unfortunately, there were no hallucinations for Collins.

She opened the passenger door, but I reached over her shoulder and pushed it shut before grabbing the handle myself and pulling the door open.

“I’d rather be alone with an open petri dish full of an airborne flesh-eating virus than listen to my own thoughts.”

Even though Boone was originally from Meadowlark, he’d been in Sweetwater Peak for nearly forty years. He was old and ornery and mean. And I loved him dearly.

“I’d rather get thrown off a cliff than live to be a hundred, and if it’s all your fault because of your insistence on the damn hugs, I’m bringing you with me.”

“Takes one to know one, Brady.” Collins looked up at me. “But it sounds like we could both use a little soul searching.”

“When I was at Boone’s that day, he told me a lot about his brother—including the fact that his granddaughter’s mom was a real estate lawyer up until very recently. I thought he could help.”

YES CAM!!!

“Amos Ryder,” the man said. “Wish we were all meeting under better circumstances. I’ve heard a lot about all of you.”

Amos moved his camera to put both him and a regal-looking woman in the frame. She had dark, curly hair and dark eyes. She waved. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Cam Tucker.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Collins,” I said. “To the ends of the earth and back again if you asked me to.”