He was a young man, just a three years older than her, but he was all man and he knew how to take charge.No more than five miles out of town, they came to the southernmost area of Washoe Lake. Here, he picked a place with a dense growth of pine, for her to change clothes. While sitting on his horse, waiting for her to change, he pulled the cardboard cylinder out of the center of his bedroll and looked the map over. He saw the large lake and then the letters WC at the northern tip of the lake. He looked at his map and saw Washoe City at the very same spot on the northern end of the lake. Folding his map, he then carefully rolled her map and put it into the cylinder, then reached back to stuff the cylinder down into his left saddlebag.When she stepped out, he reached for her clothes she had bundled in her arms. He stuffed them down into his saddlebags as she mounted. She was a changed woman in his eyes, and not only by the way she was dressed. He liked what he saw, even more so than. "He let the office manager led him to the next department. She watched them go, waving as he glanced back before the door closed."Who was that?" Sandy virtually demanded."A very old friend." She sat down again, coffee forgotten. She stared at the screen not seeing anything but the past and him and summer camp where she first got kissed by a red-headed boy with freckles. She had hit him with her shoe back then.In college, he had been the unexpected friend from home to laugh with, cry with, and lament every damn test, paper and group project with.Five years ago, he was nearly The One. They had run into each other at a Starbucks downtown. They did dinner. And again the next night. And every night that week. Then came the night she knew she was going to sleep with him. She canceled dinner, afraid of ruining a lifetime friendship over one night of passion. And as happened so often, they lost touch with each other. Until today.The morning crawled by and Bridget got nothing done. At 12:30,.
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