The colonel’s eyes crossed trying to figure out how to answer her explanation.
But Mark Henderson grinned happily, “Perfect. Let’s go.”
And that’s how she ended up alone in the back of the helicopter ten minutes later with Emily’s good wishes, three fishing poles, and a box of tackle.
One minute everything was perfect.
After a big picnic lunch from a sunny vista, Patrick had scouted out a small herd of North American elk and brought the trail ride up to them along the riverbed from downwind. The river here ran just thirty feet wide and a foot or so deep—a rushing burble over rounded boulders. There was a smooth ford about a mile upstream that they’d be crossing for the excitement of “crossing a river.” Here, protected by high hills to either side and a bend in the river, it made a secl
