Discovery at Little Hog Island, part 14

I drove all day, 412 miles from Detroit to Syracuse. I thought I was driving to a workshop, but it’s tomorrow—boy do I feel stupid. Stopped at Niagara, enjoyed the rainbows! Tired now.

Discovery at Little Hog Island, part 14

part 1, part 13

"I'm not used to riding a passenger," Dana said apologetically. "I almost never do. So trusting me may not be so smart."

Buck tightened his arm around her waist. He snorted. Sounded just like Glenn.

He directed her to the next Provincial park and had the camp reassembled exactly as she'd had it, with adjustments for the different site, almost immediately.

"You've done this before," she said.

"Yep. That I have. Want to have another beer?"

"Not particularly. I’m not a big drinker. One was enough."

"Coffee."

"Nah, it's too late."

“Ice Cream?”

“I’m allergic to dairy products.”

"Aiee! Well, will you drive me back to my boat, then?"

They hadn't gone a half-mile south toward the Hog Island campground when red lights started spinning and a cop pulled out behind them.

Part 15