Henry chuckled at himself. Yeah, coming back was the right move if I’m already thinking like a rancher again.
In Anaconda, they found a small mom-and-pop sandwich shop and ordered their lunch to go, then headed back toward Northstar to eat their meal picnic-style somewhere along the road. Henry pulled off at a point-of-interest turnout overlooking an old homestead, and they ate at the picnic table just beyond the parking area.
“It’s neat how you can feel the differences in air temperature on the back of a motorcycle,” Lindsay remarked.
“Yep, you definitely don’t get that in a car. Or quite the sense of scale, either.”
“Indeed not.” She set her sandwich down and leaned forward on her elbows. “So, what’s the story behind the bike? I know it has a story.”
“Not much of one. I bought it wh
