“Tucker," I say. "I'm so glad you're still here."I throw myself into his arms. He hugs me tightly."I couldn't leave," he says."I know.""I mean, literally. I don't have a ride.”

“I can't leave you," he says hoarsely."I can't leave you either," I say, shaking my head. "I can't.""Then don't," he says, and grabs me behind the neck and kisses me again, and the world is tilting, and everything goes black.”

“You do know we're officially the talk of the town," I say to Tucker. He might as well have taken a marker to my forehead and written PROPERTY OF TUCKER in big black letters.His eyebrows lift. "Do you mind?"I reach for his hand and lace his fingers with mine. "Nope."I'm with Tucker. In spite of my failed purpose and everything, it looks like I'm actually going to get to keep him. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”

“I'm sorry," I choke out.He's quiet. Tears drip off my chin. He lets out a slow, shaky breath."Don't cry," he says. "That's not fair."I laugh and sob at the same time."It's okay," he whispers. His fingers brush at the tears on my cheeks. "Don't cry."Then he puts his arms around me, wings and all. I curl my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest and breathe in the smell of the river on him. Somewhere in the woods a crow caws. A blackbird answers. And then we're kissing and everything goes away but Tucker.”

“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.”

“It wasn't you're fault," I whisper. And then out of self-protection more than anything else, I bring the glory. I don't warn him or anything. I don't damp it down. I bring it. The room fills with light."This is what I am," I say, my hair ablaze around my head.He squints at me. his jaw juts out a little in pure stubbornness. He stands his ground"I know," he says.I take a step towards him, close the space between us, put my glowing hand against his cheek. He starts to tremble. "This is what I am," I say again and my wings are out now.His knees wobble, but he fights it. He puts his hand at my waist, turns me, pulls me closer, which surprises me."I can accept that," he whispers, and holds his breath, and leans in to kiss meHis lips brush mine for an instant, and an emotion like victory tears through him, but he pulls away and glances at the front door. Groans.Christian is standing in the doorway."Wow," Tucker says, trying to grin. "You really know how to cramp a guy's style."His legs give out. He falls to his knees.My light blinks off.”

“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.”