“Okay,” he said once that was done. He pointed to the door panels, which had an opening at the bottom. They were going to order nets or the full door panels for it, but hadn’t yet. “Don’t, for any reason, stick your arms or legs out of the side-by-side. There’s a bar in front of you called theoh shitbar. If you hear me sayoh shitor some variation of that, you grab that bar with both hands and don’t let go. That’s to keep your arms from flailing and possibly being outside the vehicle if it rolls over.”
“That sounds...not fun,” Hannah said.
“You don’t have to worry about it. I won’t be tearing it up today. But if something on the machine breaks or just a random accident, hold that bar and trust in the roll cage. It’s pretty rugged.”
“I was wondering why we had to wear helmets even though it’s like a car,” Erika said.
Rob sighed. “Definitely not a car.”
Hannah touched his fingers, getting his attention, though she withdrew her hand quickly. “Drive it like your mom and gran are in it, okay?”
He laughed. “You don’t want that, sweetheart. They may be Kowalskis by marriage, but they keep up. And if they’re in a mood, they lead.”
Hannah’s eyes sparkled with amusement and she looked like she was going to say something else, but Erika shifted in her seat. “It’s too hot in this helmet.”
“It won’t be once we start moving.”
Rob walked around to the driver’s side and, after putting on his helmet and buckling his seat belt, he hit the button to fire the engine. It roared to life, making the entire machine vibrate, and he glanced over to find Hannah staring at him with wide eyes.
He gave her a reassuring smile and put it in gear. Thanks to the speed limit in the campground and on the narrow trail that connected it to the main system, they had time to get used to the feel of it. A glance over his shoulder told him Erika wasn’t waiting for something to happen—she had both hands on the grab bar at all times. If they went over a rock or hit ruts, Hannah would reach for it, but otherwise, she kept her hands in her lap.
When he finally hit open trail and could punch it a little, Erika squealed and Hannah laughed. That was all the encouragement he needed. He’d been riding this trail system for most of his life—from the small 90cc ATV he’d learned on, to the ATVs with major horsepower, to the side-by-sides—and he knew where to be extra cautious and where he could play a little.
It was hard to keep his attention fully on the trail in front of them, though, because he just wanted to watch Hannah. He knew she’d only agreed to this because her friend seemed so excited about it, but she was having a good time. He could see it on her face when he looked over, and every time she got nervous enough to grab the bar, he could hear her laugh.
He’d decided to take them up to the scenic overlook his family had visited every summer. It offered some shade, picnic tables and a breathtaking view that stretched into Vermont.
When they’d made it up the rocky hill and he parked, he could tell he’d made the right choice. They both hurried to get their helmets and seat belts off, though it didn’t do them any good because they still couldn’t figure out the door latches without his help.
As soon as he freed them, though, they went immediately to the edge of the clearing to look at the view. Rob grabbed his camera and went in the opposite direction, toward a cluster of boulders that had gathered earth and debris over the many years and had become something of a second lookout.
His intention in walking to the higher vantage point was to take some photos of Hannah and Erika with the view behind them so Hannah would have them. But he only took a few shots before lowering the camera and just watching them.
He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but they were clearly having a good time. There was a lot of grinning and laughing and, on one hand, he loved to see it. This was why he’d brought them out to have the experience together.
But on the other hand, it was painful. For almost two months, he’d had Hannah all to himself, as if she existed in a vacuum. In theory, he knew she had family and friends and her career in California, but in reality, she’d just been a captivating, amazing woman who was alone on site twenty-nine.
Seeing her with Erika really drove home that Hannah had a full life somewhere else that he knew nothing about.
Then Hannah turned, clearly looking for him. He waved so the movement would catch her eye, and he knew the moment she spotted him because of the smile. Even from a distance, it took his breath away.
They sat at the picnic table and ate trail mix and chocolate. He gave them bottles of water, which they both started guzzling.
“Um, so one thing I didn’t mention,” he said. “There’s a roll of toilet paper in a plastic bag in the side-by-side’s storage box if you need it.”
They both lowered their drinks, staring at him.
“Why do we need a roll of toilet paper?” Erika asked in a higher-than-usual voice.
Hannah screwed the top back on her bottle. “We haven’t really passed any bathrooms in the woods, have we?”
If Erika shook her head any harder, she probably would have fallen off the picnic table bench. “I’m pretty sure you and Ivery recentlyhad a conversation about how we don’t pee with our butts hanging over logs to get bitten by bugs. It was a hard no, Hannah.”
She held up her hands, laughing. “I didn’t choose this adventure. You did.”
“How much longer is the ride?” Erika asked Rob.
He shrugged. “If we head back now, it’ll be the same amount of time it took us to get here. Just in reverse.”
