Page 118 of Wishing Hearts

“I think I know a way to win you over,” he mutters, going back to his ice cream.

Shit. He’s going to break out the chaps.

My pulse fires, and I look out the window to distract myself. A few folks pass by outside, and I watch them for a moment, enjoying the simplicity of this day. The truth is if Sam wants another dog, we’ll get another dog. There isn’t much of anything I’d deny the man. Not when he gives so much to Winnie and me.

Sam’s fingers land on the back of my neck before long. Not a teasing touch, just a grounding one. The kind he shares with me often, like he wants to remind me of his presence. Or remind himself of mine. I give his leg a squeeze.

“Can we drive by the place you met?” Winnie asks, her phone finally put away.

Sam snorts lightly, shooting me a little glance as he licks his spoon clean. “Suppose so,” he answers. “But it was private property, so you won’t be able to see much.”

Winnie pouts at that. “What about where you had your first kiss?”

I cough, mind flashing back to the shed on Mr. Calhoun’s property, and Sam rubs my back.

“Can’t see that either, Winnie,” Sam answers.

She huffs. “Fine. Can I at least take a picture of you two before we go?”

“Of course,” I tell her, amused by Winnie’s fascination with learning about this place Sam and I first met. I guess I get it. I mean, what are the chances Sam and I would find each other in this town four hours from home instead of in the city near where we both lived? We were twenty minutes apart for a decade, and yet our paths had never crossed.

If for no other reason, I can thank Plum Valley for that. For bringing us together.

Ice cream finished, the three of us pick up our trash and head out of Country Cones. The employee waves a goodbye without ever lifting his head, and the bell jingles once more on our way through the door.

The breeze rushes past when we step onto the sidewalk, kicking up a few small tumbleweeds. The sun is bright and high in the sky, and if I take a big enough breath, I can smell a hint of wildflowers and cattle. There’s something to be said for the countryside.

“Come on,” Winnie urges, giving my hand a tug. “Let’s take the picture over here.”

Dutifully, Sam and I follow our daughter. She plants us side by side on a small green space beside the road, angling us so the quaint visage of Main Street is at our backs. Then she fidgets with her phone for a solid minute before declaring she found just the right angle.

“Say cheese,” she says.

“Cheese,” I reply, just as Sam’s mouth lands a smacking kiss against my cheek. He grabs my chin, holding me in place for the assault, and I can’t help but laugh, wrapping my arms around him as his stubble pricks my skin.

“Perfect!” Winnie declares, rushing over to show us the finished product.

Sam gives my cheek a wipe, and I tug him close, brushing my lips against his. The simplest touch from Sam always feels like coming home.

When we part and I happen to glance off to the side, the smile on my face freezes. There, about a hundred feet away, is a man I’d recognize anywhere.

Wyatt.

He’s stopped outside the aptly named Feed Store at the end of the road, clearly having spotted me, too. His hair is long, just like how I remember, but I can’t make out much else from this distance. For a moment, we both simply stare. Then Wyatt’s face breaks into a broad grin, and he lifts his hand in greeting.

I don’t know what I was expecting—honestly, I hadn’t much considered the chance of running into Wyatt again—but all I feel looking at my ex is…contentment.

I’m perfectly content—happy with the choices that led me here and grateful for all I have. There’s no urge to run or flee, and the only feeling coursing through me directly related to my ex at all is a vague sense of sentimentality for the brief time we shared.

In fact, now that I’m standing in front of the man again, I have a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t Wyatt I was running from the last time I was here in Plum Valley—that day when Sam dragged me into Mr. Calhoun’s shed. I don’t think my panic was about him at all. I think, perhaps, I was running away from myself. From the fact that, deep down, I knew something in my life had to change. I was sinking and alone, and I didn’t want to be like that anymore. Seeing Wyatt was just a reminder I’d been hurt in the past. And I knew, if—when—I found the courage to try again, I could get hurt…again.

But then there was Sam. Sam.

Not a day goes by that I’m not ridiculously happy to have put my faith in Sam. He and Winnie—they’re my family. And, of course, there’s my parents, Deb, Carl and Tilda, and all of our fur-babies, too.

But this man with his arm around my waist, who’s complimenting Winnie on her picture-taking skills—he chose me. He puts me first every single day, and I do my absolute best to make sure he knows he’s cherished in return.

So, no. There are no more of those hard, brittle feelings lingering inside. No sadness. No wishing things were different.

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