“...and Jack, who felt like he was on the cusp of being able to read minds and thought it would be all right if Luce wrote him down for that. ("I sense that you're okay with that, am I right?" He made a gun out of his fingers and clicked his tongue.)”

“I will not be quoting Hemingway anytime soon, nor will I ever read another one of his books.And if he were still alive, I would write him a letter right now and threaten to strangle him dead with my bare hands just for being so glum.No wonder he put a gun to his head, like it says in the introductory essay.”

“He runs his finger tips along my cheek, caressing my face. “Hush. I’m right here.” He looks at me with deep anguish in his eyes. Like there’s so much he wants to tell me but feels it’s too late now. I want to stroke his face and tell him that it will be okay. That everything will be all right. And I wish so badly that it would be.”

“He shook his head again. 'I just can't figure out why anyone in his right head would bother these Virgin River women.''Yeah. Makes no sense.' Jack said.”

“The room fell silent. I frankly didn't know what I was going to do to help Eduardo, but I had the sense that he was right- no one else could help him, and without help, all that he'd done would crumble.Plus, I like being called his only hope. I felt like Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Thoughts of the girl crashed around his mind, made him remember the connection he felt. A sadness washed over him, as if he missed her, wanted to see her. That doesn't make sense, he thought. I don't even know her name.”