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But...Yesterday after the swim, I dropped into the patio chair to sun dry, feeling relaxed from an hour in the water, and Rory asked, “Would you like a drink?”I nodded. “That would be great.”“Beer?” she asked with a grin.She knew I rarely drank alcohol. I was an easy drunk. A few drinks and I’d be feeling it, my morals and tongue loosening.“Bottled water, please,” I answered.“You’re no fun,” she accused lightly. Two minutes later, she handed me an icy cold spring water bottle. “Here ya go.”Rory sat at the patio table, turned her face up to the sun, popped open her Coke and sipped, sighing with pleasure. She brought her knees up, heels on the chair seat, and announced, “I love summer. We should go out on the boat this weekend.”“Okay.”Turning in the chair, gold dust sparkling in her eyes, she smiled. “I’d like to snorkel and have a picnic on the boat.”She casually hooked one leg over the arm of the chair and continued, “We could make a day of it and...”I lost track of what she was. Brena washed her face and hands in the cold water, then stood, shaking her hands to get most of the water off. She didn’t want to use her cloths to wipe off as they had road grime and some twigs imbedded in them. She turned towards the door, but kept the man at the edge of her vision. Something felt off about this, but she just couldn’t place what it was. She pushed the cloth aside that covered the door and waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the hut. There was enough light coming in from the windows and fire to see fairly well. The place was rustic to say the least. It had an open pit fireplace in the center of the one room, smoke was allowed to escape up a tube made of wood that had a some sort of metal sheeting lining it. The rafters had many herbs and plants hanging, along with what appeared to be preserved meats. She saw one wall had several cords of dried wood along it, shelves with jars and flasks lined another.She could see that they were indeed.
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