Follow A Wild Heart (romance,) by Bobby Hutchinson Page B
Authors: Bobby Hutchinson
Tags: General Fiction
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was such a good idea, Logan." She sighed. "I'm glad you talked me into it."
"Not half as glad as I am," he breathed fervently, loving the new, relaxed animation of her face. "Now, madam, shall we go for a hike, or should we rent a canoe and go boating, or should we eat first and then do everything else later?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Are you hungry already? Didn't you have breakfast?" she asked teasingly, even though she'd had precious little herself.
"I ate bacon and eggs and toast at six o'clock just like the rest of those crazy Gardoms. It's you I'm worried about. You see, when I was making our lunch last night, Danny confided that you have a healthy appetite."
"Oh, he did, did he? And you believed him?"
"Well, his exact words were, 'Mom eats like a horse.' It scared me, and I packed enough lunch for ten hungry forestry students and added a bit, just to be on the safe side." It was a risk, teasing her so blatantly. He'd seen her become both withdrawn and remote yesterday, for reasons he didn't fully understand, and he wasn't at all certain how she'd react to this kind of banter.
He needn't have been concerned, however. Her eyes sparkled up at him, amusement and gaiety in their depths, and he noticed again the deep dimple high on one cheekbone.
"Damn that kid, is nothing sacred? Well, at least now I don't have to starve to impress you with how delicate I am. Did he also tell you about my suits of long red underwear, and my chain saw in the middle of the living room?"
"No, he must have missed that part. He did tell me you do a lot of drawing, though. He said you're really good at it."
Logan's words were now making her faintly wary. Just how much stuff had Danny blabbed about her, anyway? Not that she had anything to hide, but still...
"I do like to draw," she admitted. "Mostly animals in their native surroundings. I use charcoal sometimes, but usually just pencil or pen and ink. I started when I was in Minneapolis, drawing the squirrels and birds in the park."
"I'd like to see your work sometime." His quiet words caused a flurry of uncertainty in Karena. Nobody glorified her drawings by labeling them work, least of all herself. Was he simply being polite, expressing an interest in her hobbies? Or was he telling her obliquely that he wanted to see her again, after the festival was over?
"Let's go for that hike now,” she decided. “What trails should we follow? Have you hiked around here before?"
"Not for years," he replied as they set off along a wellmarked trail that seemed at first to border the lake, a trail cushioned with fragrant pine needles and layers of decayed leaves, which seemed to send an echo of yesterday puffing into their nostrils with every step.
"July is such a wonderful month," Karena remarked. "It always makes me forget how long our winters are."
The woods seemed magic that morning. Sunbeams sent dusty rays angling down among the stately trees, and the peaceful stillness was broken only by the sounds of the animals and birds inhabiting the forest. The path was dry underfoot, carpeted with grass, and here and there were scarlet paintbrushes and bluebells among the thick green foliage and the shadow-dappled gray tree trunks.
It was Karena's world, and she walked along absorbing the special aura of the woods, the smell of pine and ferns and rotting wood. With every step deeper into the wilds, her inner peace and contentment grew. It was as if she took the environment into her body the way others drew spiritual nourishment from theater or art.
Logan was also enjoying the walk, but most of all, he was enjoying Karena's pleasure, the free and easy way she moved, the obvious familiarity she had with her surroundings. They were quiet much of the time, occasionally pointing out to one another a tiny wild flower, or a blue jay among the branches. When the path was narrow, they walked single file, Karena ahead, but as soon as it widened, he moved up beside her and always recaptured her hand in
"Not half as glad as I am," he breathed fervently, loving the new, relaxed animation of her face. "Now, madam, shall we go for a hike, or should we rent a canoe and go boating, or should we eat first and then do everything else later?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Are you hungry already? Didn't you have breakfast?" she asked teasingly, even though she'd had precious little herself.
"I ate bacon and eggs and toast at six o'clock just like the rest of those crazy Gardoms. It's you I'm worried about. You see, when I was making our lunch last night, Danny confided that you have a healthy appetite."
"Oh, he did, did he? And you believed him?"
"Well, his exact words were, 'Mom eats like a horse.' It scared me, and I packed enough lunch for ten hungry forestry students and added a bit, just to be on the safe side." It was a risk, teasing her so blatantly. He'd seen her become both withdrawn and remote yesterday, for reasons he didn't fully understand, and he wasn't at all certain how she'd react to this kind of banter.
He needn't have been concerned, however. Her eyes sparkled up at him, amusement and gaiety in their depths, and he noticed again the deep dimple high on one cheekbone.
"Damn that kid, is nothing sacred? Well, at least now I don't have to starve to impress you with how delicate I am. Did he also tell you about my suits of long red underwear, and my chain saw in the middle of the living room?"
"No, he must have missed that part. He did tell me you do a lot of drawing, though. He said you're really good at it."
Logan's words were now making her faintly wary. Just how much stuff had Danny blabbed about her, anyway? Not that she had anything to hide, but still...
"I do like to draw," she admitted. "Mostly animals in their native surroundings. I use charcoal sometimes, but usually just pencil or pen and ink. I started when I was in Minneapolis, drawing the squirrels and birds in the park."
"I'd like to see your work sometime." His quiet words caused a flurry of uncertainty in Karena. Nobody glorified her drawings by labeling them work, least of all herself. Was he simply being polite, expressing an interest in her hobbies? Or was he telling her obliquely that he wanted to see her again, after the festival was over?
"Let's go for that hike now,” she decided. “What trails should we follow? Have you hiked around here before?"
"Not for years," he replied as they set off along a wellmarked trail that seemed at first to border the lake, a trail cushioned with fragrant pine needles and layers of decayed leaves, which seemed to send an echo of yesterday puffing into their nostrils with every step.
"July is such a wonderful month," Karena remarked. "It always makes me forget how long our winters are."
The woods seemed magic that morning. Sunbeams sent dusty rays angling down among the stately trees, and the peaceful stillness was broken only by the sounds of the animals and birds inhabiting the forest. The path was dry underfoot, carpeted with grass, and here and there were scarlet paintbrushes and bluebells among the thick green foliage and the shadow-dappled gray tree trunks.
It was Karena's world, and she walked along absorbing the special aura of the woods, the smell of pine and ferns and rotting wood. With every step deeper into the wilds, her inner peace and contentment grew. It was as if she took the environment into her body the way others drew spiritual nourishment from theater or art.
Logan was also enjoying the walk, but most of all, he was enjoying Karena's pleasure, the free and easy way she moved, the obvious familiarity she had with her surroundings. They were quiet much of the time, occasionally pointing out to one another a tiny wild flower, or a blue jay among the branches. When the path was narrow, they walked single file, Karena ahead, but as soon as it widened, he moved up beside her and always recaptured her hand in
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