“The Wire?” Donna frowned. “The TV show?”
“Yeah. You’ve never seen it?”
“Naw. I don’t watch cop dramas.”
They continued their political conversation, thankfully without disagreeing during the surprisingly short drive. They were only in the truck like five minutes, yet they were pulling over. As a matter of fact, they never even passed through the gate to exit the property. They seemed to have just circled the lake.
“Lincoln, are we still on your property?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My goodness. How much land do you have?”
“A little under 400 acres.”
“Geesh. That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Well, I ain’t doing it.” He chuckled.
Lincoln killed the engine and hopped out of the truck. Remembering that he preferred to open her door, she sat and waited for him to come around. When he opened the door, she climbed out and looked around, wondering what he had planned. He closed the door and reached into the bed of the pickup.
“What are we doing here?”
He pointed straight ahead. “We’re gonna go just beyond that tree line over there.”
“And do what?” she probed. “What’s beyond the tree line?”
“Deer.”
“What?” Donna gasped just as he was handing her a rifle.
“This is a Remington 30.6. I think you’ll like this one.”
“What?”
He laughed at her apprehension. “Hunting, babe. We’re going hunting.”
“Hunting? Like, we’re going in there to shoot deer?”
“Yep,” he confirmed with a grin. His eyes lit up with excitement as he clutched his own rifle. “You once told me that you liked guns and shooting.”
“In a shooting range!” she squealed. “I don’t wanna shoot Bambi.”
“Sweetheart, Bambi and his mother died a long time ago. Don’t worry I’ll get you through it.”
Donna slipped her arm through the shoulder strap and slung the rifle over her shoulder. She looked out at the tree line and wondered what other kinds of creatures were running around in those woods.
“Lincoln, I’m a city girl. I’m not really into—”
“Come, babe. You’ll never know want you’re into if you don’t try new things.”
He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. His soft lips against her skin were comforting. He held on to her hand as they started toward the trees.
September in Chicago was unseasonably warm, but it was hotter than Satan’s nut sac in Georgia. Lincoln had her dressed from head to toe in hot ass camouflage. How soldiers survived in the desert in fatigues, she didn’t know.
Soon, they were engaged in small talk while trekking through tall trees. They walked for about five minutes until they were passing a small clearing. On the other side of the small piece of bare land was more forest. Lincoln stopped and pointed to a large tree with what looked like a small deck-like treehouse. It wasn’t very high up, but Donna didn’t have tree climbing skills.
Lincoln led her to the other side of the tree. Thankfully, there was a ladder attached to the thick trunk.
