Page 30 of First Bride to Fall
“So, you’re a big hiker, huh?” he asked as he walked along.
“Um. Only recently. I’ve been more into other outdoor activities in the past.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
Somehow she didn’t think reading on the beach after applying massive amounts of SPF 50 sunscreen and while wearing a big floppy hat was what he had in mind. She knew she’d need to choose carefully, though. What if she claimed she could do something as dangerous as whitewater rafting, and he suggested they do that together?
Her mind raced back through the options listed on his website. “Camping!” she announced because that sounded safe. It was also pretty easy.I mean, how hard can it be to set up a tent?“A girl’s got to love a good campfire.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. What’s your favorite campfire meal?”
Think. Think. Think.“Hot dogs! Fun toasting marshmallows afterward, too.” She’d seen plenty of people do that in movies.
“Something tells me you skip the s’mores.”
“Ha-ha.” She was curious as to what he meant. “Why’s that?”
“Because, um.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched, and her pulse spiked. “S’mores are made with chocolate?”
“Oh, right! Chocolate and—”
“Graham crackers,” he finished.
She’d been about to say peanut butter, but of course s’mores were made that other way. She’d heard about the weird gooey treat, but up until now had kind of forgotten about it. She didn’t even know real campers ate them. Wasn’t that more like Girl Scouts?
He kept trudging along. Now they were on an incline, headed uphill.
“What’s your favorite campfire meal?” she asked him.
“Fresh trout, when I catch it.” He called behind him because the noise from the falls was growing louder. “I hope you like fish?”
The truth was she didn’t, but she didn’t want to be rude. “Um. Why?”
They rounded a turn. “Because that’s what we’re having for dinner.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious.”
He side-stepped the mossy pebbles scattered along the path. “What kind of pack have you got?”
“Pack?” What was he talking about? Batteries? Beer? No. Wait. A backpack? “A really big one,” she said. “But not too big. Light enough for me to carry, but large enough for all my important”—she scrambled for the word he’d used on their hike—“gear.”
“Brand?”
She took a stab at it. “L.L.Bean?”
“You can’t go wrong there.”
He sounded approving, and she felt like she’d dodged that bullet.
Then he fired another round.
“Tent?”
What was this? A test? Nell bit her lip, fearing that’s exactly what this was. “Huh?”
“I was just wondering what kind of tent you use.”
“L.L.Bean,” she said, thinking that had worked the first time.
