The Return Of David Mckay. Ann Evans

he could change his mind, he waded naked into the stream.

      It took his breath away.

      It laid gooseflesh along his spine.

      It chattered his teeth.

      It was…perfect.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      DAVID HAD EXPECTED TO spend the night tossing and turning or at the very least to wake up twisted like a pretzel. Instead, after that dip in the icy river, he’d slept well and awoken feeling refreshed, recalled to earth by the sound of Addy banging on an iron pot and calling encouragingly, “Rise and shine, you two. Breakfast in fifteen minutes!”

      Gran emerged from the tent, seemingly no worse for wear. She greeted David and Addy with a cheerful, “Good morning!” and then hurried to the makeshift lavatory they’d created last night: a plastic basin for a sink and a small mirror wedged into a tree. A bent branch became a towel rack.

      David rolled over within his sleeping bag, surprised to discover that while he’d been sound asleep out in the open, only a few feet away Addy had started a fire, coffee and the beginnings of breakfast. She was also dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair, shining in the morning sun, lay smoothly brushed against her back. Compared to her bright efficiency, he felt every bit the disheveled tenderfoot slug.