The hard-packed earth felt cool on his bare toes. He hadn’t bothered with shoes when he’d left the river. Perhaps he should get a shirt and dry pants on. The evening air would turn chilly. Before he reached the buildings, he veered toward the woods to the shed that housed the generator. It would be dark soon. Might as well turn the thing on while he was out this way. The generator chugged into action without a hitch. He wiped his fingers on his damp jeans. He’d better change clothes, he thought. After he entered the cabin, he slipped upstairs only to stop in mid-stride. The clothes Margo had changed from were draped across the bed. Quickly, he charged to the loft railing. He thought she’d returned to Fort Bragg hours ago. He couldn’t decide if he was upset or glad that she had hung around. “Margo!” he hollered over the edge. “Where are you?” Changing clothes ceased to be important. He charged down the stairs and dashed to the front porch. The Jeep was still there, parked in front of the cabin.
