“I think the birds in the area are dying laughing watching me try not to crash.”
“This isn't going to become one of those creepy situations where you show up at all hours of the night to watch me sleep, is it?" [Tucker] asks playfully."Every moment I'm away from you, I die a little," I say in return.”
“The backcountry signs say stuff like BEYOND THIS POINT IS A HIGH RISK AREA, WHICH HAS MANY HAZARDS INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, AVALANCHES, CLIFFS, AND HIDDEN OBSTACLES, YOU MAY BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE COST OF YOUR RESCUE and I think, um, no thanks. I choose life.”
“I think you must be some kind of a freak. Either that or you’re trying toconvert me to your secret horse religion.”“Darn, you got me,” she says theatrically. “You thwarted my evil plan.”
“I close my eyes again. There’s the smell of mountain snow on the air. I shiver. I would have brought a coat if I’d known I was going to be in Wyoming today. I’m a wuss about cold.You’re my California flower, I remember Tucker saying to me once. We were sitting on the pasture fence at the Lazy Dog, watching his dad break in a colt, the leaves in the trees red just like they are today. I started shivering so hard my teeth actually began to chatter, and Tucker laughed at me and called me that—his delicate California flower— and wrapped me in his coat.”
“Bug spray.” Mosquitoes never bother me, but apparently they eat Tucker alive if he forgets bug spray. So I wear it for solidarity. “All the kids wearit,” I explain to Mom. “They say the mosquito is the Wyoming state bird.”
“What? I demand to know. "What is it now?""You're not going to go." he says."Watch me.""I've been having a vision of this place, too." This stops me from my wild, cowardly (how can he think I'm brave?) retreat back to the road ..."You're having a new vision, too?" I ask. "It's right here." He walks toward me, his strides long and purposeful across the grass. "Right now. I've been seeing it for weeks, and it's happening right now."He stops in front of me. "This is the part where I kiss you," he says.”