I trailed the path of his tattoo with my fingertip. “Not really much of a point anymore.” He tapped my nose, making me smile. “But the four of us siblings all got tattoos. My sister’s idea. She was only twenty-two, but I think she could sense all of us drifting apart.” “Why windmills though?” “Because they always move but never leave.” He kissed my temple. “You can count on them, day in, day out, to give you water, life. And you can never miss them. Even in a big pasture, it’s like a country lighthouse telling you to come back home.”
