Chapter Four
It was worse than she could have imagined.
“Where are you going with that?” Margaret asked. She was still shivering from the cold dip in the lake, wondering for a moment whether hypothermia was about to set in even though she was wearing a sweater and jacket and was once again sitting by a warm fire, a fire she had insisted Joe make after their dip in that freezing slurry of a lake. “Where are you going?” she asked again.
Joe was carrying his rifle, checking the safety. “Thought I would peg us some grub—rabbit, wild turkey. I think bear season just opened, too. Can you imagine nailing one on our honeymoon? I would kill for a bearskin rug.”
Was he kidding? She wondered if the expression on her face resembled anything near how puzzled she was. Could this man possibly be that
