DINNER WAS CARIBOU sandwiches on French bread that Hunter had prepared for them, washed down with hot beef broth. There had even been a few slices of tomato on the sandwich. He had told her they’d been grown in the immense garden to the side of his cabin that provided him with an array of vegetables in the summer.
Melony had at first blanched when he’d told her what was between the thick slices of bread, but after her first bite she admitted that she found the meat to be quite delicious. In fact, pushing any modesty aside, she had asked him for seconds.
Now they stood in his bedroom with the contents of her pack spread out on his bed. The frame was made of sturdy fallen logs and was the focus of the room. It was the only thing occupying it aside from a dresser and a few hooks on the wall
